


Heather, Harry, and the Prisoner of Azkaban

by bushViperCutie



Series: Heather Potter [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Gen, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts Third Year, POV Female Character, Quidditch, Secrets, Shrieking Shack, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Slytherin, Slytherin Common Room, Time Turner (Harry Potter), Werewolf Remus Lupin, whomping willow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 79,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25194724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushViperCutie/pseuds/bushViperCutie
Summary: Follow Heather Potter (Harry’s often forgotten twin sister) through her third year at Hogwarts!(Made for Pro Snape Fandom)
Relationships: Harry Potter & Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Original Female Character(s), Ron Weasley & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Heather Potter [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785106
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Happy Thirteenth Birthday

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

It was blazing hot inside and outside the house, under every tree and bush, and sometimes even the cold tap water came out warm. There was no escaping the summer heat and the best Heather could do to cool off, was shower with one of Dudley’s old shirts – the stupid ones with the sleeves torn off – and sit in the empty tub waiting for the water to evaporate off her body.

Her arm and head hung off the tub’s rim as she waited a bit longer to dry off. Her wand sat on the counter next to the sink, and her old toothbrush a few feet away on Aunt Petunia’s nice lime green bath rug. Heather extended her arm and curled her fingers, willing the toothbrush over to her.

She used the same techniques as she would moving a spider from one place to another without touching it. She thought and thought and imagined the toothbrush sliding over to her. There was a jiggle, but that was all.

She wasn’t sure if she plainly couldn’t do it or if she was just too afraid to. Moving spiders was one thing, after all she had been moving spider without touching them since first year, and she suspected that when she was younger and saw them crawling above her head, they did not actually jump to Harry’s side on their own.

She dried off and put the toothbrush under the sink, in the only area her and Harry were allowed to keep their things. She walked into her shared room and fell onto the mattress on the floor, listening to Harry groan and complain about their history of magic homework.

“This is taking forever and it’s so boring,” he poked his head over the edge, “Let me read yours.”

She flicked his ear, “Do. Your. Work.”

He rubbed his ear and went back to reading, “You know the longer I take on my homework, the higher the chance they’ll catch us with our books.”

Heather sat up, “Then do your work faster.”

She was afraid Harry was developing a nasty habit of having Hermione do his work for him. They had picked the locks and gotten their books within the first week of being back, which by now would have been plenty of time to finish most essays, but Harry had only managed to finish their potions one and only out of pure fear.

It was late now, passed late dinners for most normal families, and they prepared for their nightly inspection before sleep. Heather helped Harry pop a floorboard out and stuffed all their magical everything inside it before patting it shut. It was the only place they could hide their things without the Dursleys snooping around – especially Dudley who loved getting them into trouble.

They stood up and leaned against the wall as Uncle Vernon’s heavy footsteps came up the stairs, thunderous and slow. Without knocking – as if trying to catch them by surprise – he swung the door open and gave them disappointed looks when he saw they were already in their places. He stepped in, looked around the room for anything out of place and ‘odd’, eyed them carefully, and stepped back out, locking them in for the night.

They groaned and sat back down on the bed hearing the Durley’s nightly routine of saying goodnight to Dudley. Uncle Vernon always gave him the usual one-time goodnight, while Aunt Petunia kept coming back to say goodnight every time she crossed his bedroom door. Heather wasn’t sure how Dudley could stand constantly being interrupted by her as he tried to get settled into bed.

Her footsteps sounded closer as she approached their bedroom door, banging on it hard with the palm of her hand, “BREAKFAST NEEDS TO BE DONE BY EIGHT TOMORROW,” and walked back, giving Dudley her final goodnight and shut her bedroom door closed.

That was their cue to let Hedwig out of her cage for the night. There weren’t any bars on their bedroom window this time and they had promised not to do any magic in the house – not that they’d be willing to risk getting expelled – so for five weeks now, things were only slightly better than their last summer.

“I’m calling her,” Harry got off the bed and took out his parchment and quill again from the floorboard.

“Do you want them punishing us AGAIN for calling wizards? I like our window just fine without bars up and – ” Heather tapped her foot, knowing Harry’s ankle was still hurting from all the extra yard work they had to do the last time Ron called. “You’ll get caught and I’ll make you do MY HALF of the punishment.”

Harry shook his head and pushed past her, kneeling down and picking the locks to their bedroom door, freeing them from their enclosure. They crept down the stairs together – recently she had started to feel she should be keeping a closer eye on him – and sat down at the counter’s swivel stools next to the phone.

Harry picked up the phone quietly and dialed Hermione’s number from memory. He waited a few minutes and then, “Hermione? Yeah, will you read me your history of magic essay? …Well don’t you have any time before you leave?”

Heather rolled her eyes, “Harry you need to do the essay yourself. She isn’t gonna – ”

“Oh, hold on,” he dipped his quill in ink and held it to the parchment, “Can you start from the beginning again?”

Heather smacked her face quietly.

“Oh?” Harry looked up at the time, “Thanks. Hold on,” he handed the phone to Heather.

“Hermione?”

“I CAN’T believe you’ve forgotten your own birthday! Happy birthday!” Hermione clapped into the phone.

“Oh?” Heather squinted at the glowing time on the stove.

It was ten minutes after twelve which meant they were officially thirteen now.

“Thanks for remembering. No one else did,” she laughed quietly.

“That’s not true! Go hang up right now and be at your window. They should be arriving by now. Happy birthday and talk to you soon! Oh and tell Harry if he calls I won’t be here. Bye!” Hermione hung up.

She handed the phone back and dragged Harry away, who still needed eleven more inches to his essay. They crept back up the stairs and relocked the door behind them. The window was open and a nice cool breeze was drifting in but there was still not one sign of Hedwig, who had been gone for three days now.

“D’you see anything?” Harry leaned further out the window, looking in all directions over the roofs of the other houses.

Heather squinted up at the moon, noticing a weird lumpy flying spec, “Uh, what’s that?”

Harry pulled her back away from the window as the lumpy object got closer and closer, heading right in their direction. Whatever creature it was, it must be magical, there was no doubt in Heather’s mind about that. No muggle bird was that jittery in the sky. It swooped in through the window and crashed on the bed.

Heather snorted and covered her mouth, afraid to have laughed too loud, “I thought it was some beast.”

Hedwig, Errol, and a third owl stood on their parcels – Errol was collapsed over his – and gave small hoots of triumph. Heather thought it was funny that the other two owls had to help Errol with his parcel and even funnier because Errol’s was given the largest package of the three.

They took the packages and the new owl stretched and flew out the window. Hedwig and Errol left to rest in Hedwig’s cage, watching Heather and Harry sit on the bed to read what was from who. They opened the larger parcel, reading that it was from the Weasleys.

There were several birthday cards, one from each Weasley member and for each of them. To Heather, Percy wrote that he hoped her studying was going well while to Harry he wrote that he hoped he was studying. Fred and George sent over stinky leaves for the both of them to put under Dudley’s pillows, Ginny had written a very neat “Happy Birthday, Harry. From, Ginny Weasley” and to Heather she wrote:

‘To: Happy Birthday

From: Ginny

Heather.’

Heather laughed and tucked the card under her pillow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had sent them a birthday card as well with several pieces of Egyptian candy stuck on somehow, and two newspaper clippings, one of a family picture of them in Egypt – Ron was now taller than Mrs. Weasley, and was holding up Scabbers, and Ginny was just as tall as her, though to be fair all the Weasleys were much taller than the average student at Hogwarts – and the other clipping Harry took.

He scanned it, “Lucky them. I guess Mr. Weasley won the Daily Prophet Galleon Draw.”

Heather took the clipping, “Wow… Oh I didn’t know Bill was a curse breaker… is that… Dark Arts stuff?”

Harry shrugged, “You know… We have all that money sitting in our vault – ”

Heather shushed him, “I know what you’re thinking and NO. Absolutely not we aren’t spending that money for anything other than school! And that’s final.”

Harry scoffed but didn’t argue. They read the last two cards from Ron, which they could barely read with his scribbly handwriting.

Heather took it and tried her best, “‘Happy Birthday’ … ‘ Sorry I shouted when I called and got you guys in trouble’ … ‘Getting a new wand in London last week of summer, hope to see you two there’ … ‘Percy’s Head Boy’ … ‘ Enjoy your gift. Sorry I could only get one’ … and then I think it says ‘Pocket Sneakoscope. If there’s anyone untrustworthy around, it’ll spin and glow.’”

Harry unwrapped the last Weasley gift from Ron and pulled out the Pocket Sneakoscope. It didn’t glow or spin, which they supposed was good and hoped it wasn’t just broken or anything. Next, they moved on to the parcel Hedwig had brought in, reading that it was from Hermione.

Heather opened the letter, “She says… She’ll be in France soon and won’t be able to answer the phone for a month.” Heather ignored Harry’s groans, “And that the presents are by ‘owl-order’ and… That she hopes to see us last week of holidays too.”

They opened the presents which were two Broomstick Servicing Kits and gasped.

“Ok, we need to get Hermione a good birthday present this year. These are – ”

“Wow,” Harry opened it up and started going through it.

“We still have this one.” Heather cut the twine holding two rectangle packages and a note from Hagrid. “‘Happy Birthdays! You’ll be needing this for next year, you’ll see. Your friend, Hagrid.’”

Harry took a package and dropped it as soon as it growled, “Heather… Hagrid knows not to send us anything dangerous… right?”

Heather shook her head. She picked up the other package and felt it move slightly and growl like the other one had, “Harry you open yours. We shouldn’t open them both.”

Harry nodded and tore at the top, ripping the brown paper apart and sliding the object out. It was a book, with fur all around it, except for the shiny green letters spelling ‘The Monster Book of Monsters’. Heather and Harry tilted their heads to read the title when two eyes on the front popped up and stared at them evil-y.

It lunged at Heather’s knees and she jumped from the bed, allowing the book to scuttle under the pillowcase. Harry picked their pillow up and swatted the book creature off the bed, hearing it growl and bite at something under the dresser.

“Surround it with boxes!” Heather pointed at Aunt Petunia’s storage boxes taking up part of their room.

Together they pushed and trapped it under the drawer where it would stay until they could write to Hagrid to ask him what on earth he was thinking sending them that thing. She couldn’t imagine what people could actually read it without having their fingers and noses bit clean off.

They sat on the bed panting and gathering up their things. They shoved all the scrap paper in their drawer and opened up the floorboard again to put their presents in where Uncle Vernon would never look.

“Well, happy birthday and goodnight,” Heather collapsed on the mattress.

“Happy thirteenth and night.”

She yawned and went straight to sleep, dreaming of going back to Hogwarts where she could practice all the magic she wanted, far away from the Dursleys. That night not even the owl’s hoots woke them up and they slept soundly until Aunt Petunia unlocked the door in the morning and told them to get going on breakfast while she showered.

They took out all the normal stuff the Dursleys liked to eat: eggs, bacon, sausage links, waffles, and toast. She didn’t know why or how they could manage to eat so much for breakfast, even Harry and her didn’t have an appetite so early in the morning and they were always hungry when they were here. One or two sausages went missing from the pan to the table but overall, they managed to stack several plates high for Uncle Vernon and Dudley – Petunia liked just toast.

There was tapping on the kitchen window and Harry pulled back the curtains to greet an owl with two letters in its beak. Harry took them and handed one to Heather, seeing it was addressed to each of them with a Hogwarts seal.

Heather opened hers, eagerly anticipating the class materials list, and took out a permission slip of some sort with a letter from Professor McGonagall. “We can visit Hogsmeade this year?”

Harry groaned, “But only if we get Vernon or Petunia to sign this… How’re we going to get them to do that?”

“We can fake their signatures?” Heather leaned in closer to whisper, “I don’t think the teachers would be able to tell, do you?”

He shook his head. Aunt Petunia came down and they both hid the letters under their clothes, having to keep up the pretenses that Hogwarts and all things magical never existed. They would never sign a permission slip form for them to go to a wizards only village, not in a million years would they allow it. Heather sat down next to Harry to share a plate of their pre-cooked breakfast that Aunt Petunia always makes for them the night before.

Uncle Vernon came down next, sitting in his usual seat, followed by Dudley who went straight to turning on his new tv that sat on the counter. None of them looked at the twins, nor acknowledged their existence, let alone the fact that they were now technically thirteen years old.

Heather began eating the terribly cooked oatmeal and joined Harry in taking some toast since all three Dursleys were transfixed on the morning news reports on the tv. The reporter was sitting at his desk, shuffling papers, and pointing at a picture of a deranged man.

“A convict has escaped, believed to be armed and dangerous, last week. If you have any information, please call this number,” the numbers flashed on the screen and the reporter went on with other news.

“He should be fairly easy to spot,” Uncle Vernon laughed, “A filthy criminal with a rat’s nest on his head walking around town,” he chuckled, “Yes, I should think they’ll catch him in no time.”

“That’s what happens to lazy good-for-nothings who never bothered to even go to school,” Aunt Petunia scooped out some grapefruit and made a face, “They have nowhere else to turn to but petty crime. They’re useless to society – ”

“I couldn’t agree more, dear,” Uncle Vernon eyed Heather and Harry over his newspaper.

“Where did he escape from?” Heather risked the question, seeing as it was her and Harry always tasked with taking out the trash at night and early mornings.

Uncle Vernon rolled his eyes at her and opened his mouth but nothing came out. He looked at his wife who was looking wide-eyed at him and Dudley. “Son, did you hear where that lunatic escaped from?”

Dudley shoved a whole bacon slice in his mouth and shook his head, his eyes still transfixed on the television.

“Vernon! He could be anywhere!”

“Maybe he’s hiding on our street,” Harry hid a smile.

Heather kicked him under the table, seeing how nastily Uncle Vernon looked at him. Aunt Petunia looked over out the window, as if the man really could be walking up their street that second, not that she’d mind calling the number herself. She’d finally make it on the news and have gossip for all her neighborhood friends.

Uncle Vernon looked at his watch and finished his tea, folding up the newspaper and stood. “Well, I’ll be back with Marge in thirty minutes.”

Heather and Harry looked at each other suddenly.

“Aunt Marge? She’s-She’s staying? Here?” Harry tried to keep his face looking as unemotional as possible, but his bouncing leg gave him away.

“For a week or is that a problem?” he growled. “Think you have a say on what goes on around in my house, do you?”

Aunt Petunia put her hands to her hips and Dudley finally looked away from the tv, hoping to see the twins get yelled at. Heather and Harry shook they heads and looked away.

“Let me remind you both,” he pointed his finger at them, “You will not talk to Marge unless spoken to. And WHEN speaking to her, you will be nothing short of civilized!” He came closer, “And no funny business, understand?”

Heather nodded and expected Harry to do the same, but he didn’t.

Instead he looked back at Uncle Vernon, “I’ll be civil if she is.”

If it hadn’t been for the time, Harry would have had an earful. Uncle Vernon huffed and continued, “You go to St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys,” he said to Harry, “and you go to St. Mary’s Etiquette Academy for Disorderly Girls,” he said to Heather.

She bit back her tongue and nodded, pushing oatmeal with her spoon. She wanted nothing more than to leave this house and go straight to Hogwarts. Why couldn’t they stay summers there? Surely Hogwarts would be able to accommodate two students and Hagrid would be happy for the company.

Uncle Vernon walked to the door and looked for the correct car keys. Harry had been glaring at his food when he suddenly looked at Heather and bolted out of his chair, running to the door. Heather turned and watched with dread at what Harry was attempting.

“There’s a permission slip Heather and I need signed,” he motioned for Heather to approach. “To visit a village near our school.”

Uncle Vernon laughed, “Why would I sign that?”

“To make sure we follow your rules.”

Uncle Vernon was about to yell at Harry’s audacity to take control when Heather quickly interjected.

“What he means is… It can get hard for us to remember so many details… Maybe with this incentive… What was the name of my school again?”

“St. Brutus’s and St. Mary’s,” he snarled.

“We might accidently let something slip,” Harry shrugged.

Heather almost smacked her head, thinking Harry was laying it on too thick for their good.

“Then you might accidently get the stuffing knocked out of you both!” he grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open.

“And hope Aunt Marge just forgets what we say?”

Heather gave him wide eyes, warning him to quit and abort mission while he could.

Uncle Vernon closed the door slowly, “If you two act like normal children for ONCE… I will sign your ruddy slips. But,” he growled, “I will be monitoring your behavior and if ANYTHING odd happens even slightly, no matter how miniscule, you’ll BOTH be sleeping outside for the rest of summer AND your slips won’t be signed.” He opened the door once more and slammed it shut behind him.

Harry smiled at Heather, “Well that solves it.”

She frowned at him, “Yeah, and now if anything happens we’ll be camping outside until school starts!”

“What could happen,” he grinned and ran upstairs.

She couldn’t believe he had already forgotten last summer with Dobby, or the one before that with the snake. His optimism was dangerous… but contagious. She sighed and ran after him, sparing him a much needed lecture on life and unfortunate events.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	2. Aunt Marge Visits

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather let Hedwig and Errol out of their cages, not wanted them to hoot or screech while Aunt Marge was over, “Go to the Burrow for a week. You’ll have a much better week than we will.” Heather opened the window for them.

Harry was making sure all their stuff was in the floorboards, when he remembered the growling book under the dresser, “What do we do about that?”

Heather moved one of the boxes slightly to see if it’d come out and to her horror, it had chewed through into the very box she had pulled away, “It’s in here!”

Harry opened the box flaps and looked inside, “It’s asleep,” he whispered, “Hand me my belt.”

She handed it over and watched him make a loop and lean inside. There was a growl and a quick yelp from Harry followed by a sigh of relief. He took out the growling book, bound together by the belt, and placed it under the floorboard as well with the other one.

“COME DOWN NOW!” Aunt Petunia called from bellow.

“Why do we have to greet her? She hates us.”

“Because she loves making fun of us,” Heather held the door open for Harry and they both made their way downstairs.

Heather stood next to Dudley and snorted trying to hold in a laugh at his stupid necktie. Dudley turned to her and stomped on her foot suddenly.

“OW!”

“Quiet! She’s coming,” Aunt Petunia opened the door and smiled, “Welcome!”

There was a CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH of the gravel and then Aunt Marge was in full view as she walked through the open door, looking as if she smelled something foul and sour in the air. She gave a polite smile to Aunt Petunia and set her chunky dog down on the ground, opening her arms wide to hug Dudley.

“MY DUDDERS!” she scooped him up with both arms and squeezed very tight.

Dudley’s feet dangled and it was amazing watching Dudely’s self-restraint. Heather knew he wanted to yell and scream to be put down, but he had a mission, and the reward for it was dessert, no doubt. Aunt Marge finally set him down and turned to Heather and Harry, frowning like she’d found what smelled so awful.

“Marge, there’s some tea in the kitchen,” Aunt Petunia quickly led her away from them.

Uncle Vernon came through the door next, carrying all her cases. “Carry these to your room,” he pushed the luggage at them.

“Our room?” Heather looked at Harry urgently.

“Isn’t she staying – ”

Uncle Vernon closed the door and grinned, “It must have SLIPped my mind. There’s a tent set up for you two in the back.” He made his hand into a chubby walking man motion, “So walk these on up and do as you’re told for the week. Then it won’t SLIP my mind what our deal was.” He left them in hall and closed the door to the living room.

Heather kicked one of the cases, “We should have known.”

They split the workload and dragged everything upstairs and set it in the corner of the room. Luckily, they didn’t get their brooms out and the loose floorboard was right under the bed. Ripper – the favorite bulldog Aunt Mare took everywhere – hopped right onto the floor mattress and growled when she tried to kick him off.

“We get to keep our pillows. At least.” Harry grabbed them both and they headed back downstairs to set up the tent.

After the last rod was in place and all the spiders were kindly removed by Harry, they washed their hands and sat for dinner, across the table from Aunt Marge and Dudley. At first she pretended not to notice them, until Heather decided to go for seconds.

“I see that school of yours hasn’t taught you a thing,” she moved the bowl of cooked greens towards her. “Gluttons and freeloaders. The pair of you.”

It was hilarious, watching Aunt Marge yell at them about eating too much as she spooned a mountain of gravy into her mouth. All while Dudley laughed with his mouth open at them.

“Petunia, you should write to them – obviously their lessons aren’t sticking. Maybe it’s time for a more aggressive approach.”

The rest of the week went more or less like how it always went. Once a day she offered to beat them to “really show them who’s in charge,” or would comment on their appearance. Despite complaining about them eating every time they did so – which was only twice a day – she commented on how weak they looked and how it had to do with their genes.

Twice she had to stop Harry from talking back. She knew every time Aunt Marge bordered on bashing their parents, Harry was ready to giver her a piece of his mind. She often times looked at Aunt Petunia, to see how she reacted to almost being insulted since she was the one actually related to them. If she was bothered by it, she never showed it, nodding and agreeing with everything Aunt Marge said about them.

“In breeding they take those things very seriously,” she was saying to Uncle Vernon over dinner that night, “You can’t make any old mut a dam or a sire, or the whelp will turn out ill-tempered and bad-mannered.” She looked at them, “Which must have been the case. Just compare these two to my sweet Dudders over here – ”

Just then Aunt Marge’s whine glass exploded, covering her in red wine and staining her overly embroidered suit jacket and brown top. Everyone but Aunt Marge looked at Heather and Harry – though mostly Harry since he’s always the one to lose his cool first.

“I’m so sorry, Petunia. Sometimes I forget my own strength,” she laughed. “One of those two can get me something. I’m sure they’re capable of at least that.”

Heather and Harry walked into the kitchen together, gave her a couple of napkins, and excused themselves from the table. They walked out of the room and ran outside. Heather made sure the glass door was closed shut and dove into the tent after Harry.

He was curled up in the corner with his arms crossed, “I know. The forms. I’m sorry.”

“Harry…” she sat down close to him, “I hate when she says that stuff too… But you shouldn’t care what she thinks or says about… about them. Even if she calls them muts.”

“You only don’t like it ‘cause you hate hearing about them! You don’t even care what anyone says, good or bad.”

Heather clenched her jaw, knowing they were bordering on an uncomfortable subject for her. “I just… We have to live our life now. And that means going to Hogsmeade. The past is the past and nothing anyone says now or ever will change that.”

“It does change things!” he sat up and smacked his hand on his pillow, “You act like they left us on purpose – ”

“Harry!”

“But they didn’t! They were taken from us! They didn’t leave you – ”

“Harry I SWEAR – ”

“But you have no problem leaving them!” Harry frowned and wiped tears from his eyes, letting silence fall on them for several minutes. “You’re the one whose leaving them.”

Heather punched his shoulder as hard as she could and ripped the tent flap open, “I’m sleeping outside tonight. Until you APPOLOGIZE.”

She stood up and stepped out, zipping the flap as fast as she could and walked over to the far left of the house, away from all the windows and from view of the tent. She fell onto the dirt and started sobbing, kicking the fence as hard as she could until a crack appeared in the perfectly white picket fence.

“I’m not leaving them,” she growled into the wind.

There was a rock to her left and she imagined angrily flinging the rock over the fence and hearing it smash to pieces onto the street and before her eyes she watched it follow her exact imagined trajectory. She heard it hit the street on the other side and skid a few feet before hitting something hard. Her anxiety about being caught doing magic ruined the moment, knowing two accounts of underage magic would be showing up for the evening. Two more than what was allowed.

It only took an hour for Harry to apologize for what he said. Heather nodded but kept quiet the rest of the night and some of the morning. It was during breakfast that Harry finally made amends by offering up his slice of bacon to her, which she cheerfully accepted, despite the disgusted looks Aunt Marge was giving her.

“You’ll be lucky to find any kind of husband willing to put up with you,” she shook her head, “And if you want a wife you’ll fix that mop of yours atop your head!”

The twins nodded, not really knowing how else to respond to that kind of attack on their future selves. The day felt like a copy of the last, having to sit around the room near Aunt Marge while she barked orders and spit out insults.

Heather excused herself to the bathroom for the fourth time that day and headed upstairs. She was walking past their bedroom door when she heard a familiar clicking. She looked over the railing quickly before opening their door to a large majestic owl pecking at the closed window with a light green scroll tied to its leg.

She crossed the room and pulled the window open to allow for the owl to enter. It stretched it’s leg out and the second the rolled up letter was pulled free, it swept away, as if unable to be in the vicinity for much longer.

“WHERE IS SHE? You know drugs can be done at any age? I’d check the tank if I were you…”

Heather rolled her eyes at Aunt Marge and stuffed the letter in her pocket. She left the room quickly, closing the door behind her quietly and made her way back into the room where Aunt Marge was now commenting on Harry’s “glassy” eyes.

She could hear Harry muttering under his breath, “Focus on the form,” over and over to keep his cool. The only thing getter HER through it all was the fact today was Aunt Marge’s last day here. They would get their room back, she could study some more, take a long shower… and she’d get to clean that gross mattress Ripper had been sleeping in all week.

Heather and Harry were drawn back to reality by the snapping Aunt Petunia was doing to get their attention.

“Maybe they were dropped on their heads,” Aunt Marge howled with laughter.

“Go set the table,” Aunt Petunia called from the kitchen.

While Dudley entertained Aunt Marge – who had been slipping him twenties every so often throughout the week – and Uncle Vernon uncorked several whine bottles, they set the table and got it ready for Aunt Petunia’s fancy dinner. They all sat down and Heather and Harry watched everyone dig into the meal before they served themselves.

Sometimes Heather wished Aunt Petunia had been nicer to them, she admired her cooking and thought it would have been nice to learn from her, though she knew the reality was they wouldn’t be able to stand each other for even a second. If Heather complimented her cooking right then, she would have been sent away for mocking her somehow. In the end, their relationship is best left well alone, along with the rest of the Dursleys.

“Fancy some more, Marge?” Uncle Vernon held up the last bottle of red wine.

“A tiny bit more won’t hurt,” she pushed the glass and kept motioning for him to keep pouring until there was no more coming out. “That’s alright, then.”

Would it be so bad if they disappeared during dessert? She kept eyeing the door with Harry but Uncle Vernon made it incredibly clear they were not to move an inch, quietly slamming his fist down while his sister downed the wine.

“That hits the spot,” Aunt Marge set down her wine glass and pet Ripper under the table and looked at Dudley on his third cream cake serving, “Dudder’s you’ll be a healthy beast-of-a-man when you grow up, just you wait,” she winked at him. “But you two,” she started.

Heather noticed Harry start to mumble again, something about the broom servicing kits.

Aunt Marge pointed her cream-covered spoon at Heather, “Gotta watch out for ones like her in their teenage years. My horrid neighbor – the one I was telling you about, Petunia – she had a bitch once – she kept seeing all sorts of strays in the neighborhood, wondered why – well I knew just why. It was only a shock to her when her bitch gave birth to a dozen mutts – and who knows what dog was to blame.”

Heather clenched her jaw and squeezed her fork tight. They were all lucky Harry and her were going to Hogwarts, or she would’ve had nothing to lose just then.

Marge spooned some more cake into her mouth and turned to Harry next, “And this runty-one – what kind of boy is shorter than his sister – It must be to do with THAT blood.”

She was starting to jumble her words, but Harry understood her perfectly.

“What blood,” Harry asked, setting down his fork.

Heather looked at him with wide eyes, wishing she could flick his nose or ears or anything to keep him from starting something everyone at the table would regret, but mostly him. Dudley had now looked up from his cake again, grinning and happy to hear about how awful his cousins were.

Marge squinted her eyes at Harry, “That sister of yours, Petunia, was clearly a bad egg, but the rotten egg was obviously that Potter boy she ran off with. You’ve got the results of bad blood mixed with rotten blood right here, and you can see it in him.”

Harry shook his head and pushed the small cream lumps around his plate. Heather’s heart was beating out of her chest and sighed with relief at his calm reaction. She kicked his foot under the table and nodded her head slightly when he glanced over, trying to convey her approval.

“What was it this rotten Potter boy did, again?”

Aunt Petunia hesitated for a second, “Nothing, he had no job – ”

“Of course he didn’t, why would he. That layabout was nothing but a filthy bum – a pimple by societal standards – and good riddance. I’d say be thankful there’s no chance for them to be coming around begging for money but now look what they left behind. That Potter boy was filth – ”

“No. He wasn’t!” Harry slammed his fist down.

“MORE WINE, MARGE?” Uncle Vernon quickly stood and ran to the wine cabinet.

Marge ignored her brother, “What else would you call a good-for-nothing moocher who goes and kills himself and his wife and leaves you two accidents on the doorstep of two hardworking people too good and decent to kick you off their property, hmm?”

“He didn’t get anyone killed!” Harry stood, knocking his chair back.

“Oh, going to get all tough on me, are you boy?” Marge sneered and stabbed her spoon into her cake, “You and your sister are both ungrateful little RUNTS – ”

Heather looked up from her hands – previously pressed against her face in horror – and stared at Marge the same as everyone. She had suddenly stopped speaking and the red from her face was spreading down her neck and onto her hands. Everywhere she turned red, it looked like she was swelling like a great big balloon until her buttons all popped off her clothes and her belt buckle broke in two, allowing what little waist she had before to disappear entirely.

Heather stood as Marge began to lift from the table, grasping at the corners and looking around utterly confused.

“NO! MARGE!” Uncle Vernon came running back to the table and tried to sit her down into her seat.

She looked like a hot air balloon now, rising up out of her seat despite Uncle Vernon’s attempts at keeping her down – Aunt Petunia only looked on in horror with Dudley cowering behind her, looking at Harry and Heather.

Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the table and out into the hall. She made to run upstairs for the lock pick kit but just as Harry reached for the knob, the door burst open and all their things fell out.

The living room door was rattling as if someone was trying to get out – likely Uncle Vernon ready to yell at them – but despite there being no locks, it would not open. She couldn’t help but stare at Harry as he stuffed all his things in his trunk and then Heather’s. Did he know what he was doing? Did he mean to do it? She hadn’t seen anyone else use all that magic without a wand at school… and she hated to think it… but was he really the powerful wizard everyone claimed he was?

“Are you going to help?” Harry hissed at her.

“Wh-what are you doing? Why are you packing? We should get a hold of Mr. Weasley and ask how to reverse whatever spell you used – ”

“We’re LEAVING, Heather. Why would we stay here?”

She blinked and turned back to the door being pounded on heavily. Even the kitchen door was jammed shut with something.

“Leave where? Where would we go? We have no one!”

She pulled him up but he pushed passed her and ran up the stairs. She stood frozen in place as Harry collected their things from under the floorboard and came back, pouring their belongings into their trunks. He shoved her broom into her hands and dragged his trunk to the door, flinging it open – this time manually – and exited the house.

Just then the kitchen door flew open and Heather jumped, grabbing her case and following Harry out the door as Uncle Vernon yelled for them to come back and fix Marge. She ran to catch up to Harry, who now had his wand out and ready.

“Why do you have that out!”

“In case they try to stop us leaving. We aren’t ever coming back.”

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	3. On the Run

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

They had walked for a good thirty minutes before collapsing onto a bench under a light. They were sleepy, tired, exhausted, and starving now. The small meal they were allowed to have had now been burned and their bodies were begging for more sustenance. The night was cold and the wind cut like paper despite how hot it had been earlier that day. The moon was hiding behind clouds and the air was unusually silent for what they were used to.

Privet Drive was normally quiet, not silent, out at night. They could always hear the Dursleys and sometimes even the neighbors as they talked about their new fancy cars or how delicious their wife’s meals had been that night.

Now the street was empty, most lights were out, and things barely looked recognizable. Harry had run off in such a hurry she was sure they had taken a turn down a new area they hadn’t ever been to and the eeriness of the night was setting in.

She remembered the escaped prisoner and knew she needed to get them back, even if it was very unlikely that he’d be walking around Little Whinging – if that was still where they even were. She caught her breath and calmed her heart.

“Harry, we have to go back.”

“We can’t,” he no longer sounded mad and determined, but scared.

Heather put a hand on his shoulder, “Yes we can. We just need to get a hold of a wizard, make her better, and accept whatever punishment they give us.”

“Murder. The Dursleys will kill us,” Harry hung his head and pressed his hands to his face.

“They’re too boring for murder. If anything, they’ll give us up and we might end up with a new, much nicer family,” Heather leaned down and smiled, trying to catch his attention.

“Or we’ll be separated.”

She sat back and sighed, “I won’t let that happen. We’ll talk to people and – ”

“YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING. You’re not going talk your way out of getting us separated – you think you can fix things and you can’t!”

She stood suddenly, towering over him, “You’re right. My job is KEEPING THINGS FROM HAPPENING. And YOUR job is BREAKING EVERYTHING AND HAVING IT ALL GO YOUR WAY.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he stood and pushed her back.

“You know exactly what,” she pushed harder.

Harry fell back, tripping over his trunk and winced in pain.

“Sorry! I – ”

He held up his hand, cutting her off, “What if… what if we fly to London? We could get our money and live somewhere else with it!”

She put her hands on her hips, “How would we fly there? Our trunks are heavy, we can’t use magic, and Muggles will see us.”

“Well for starters, we’re probably expelled so we can use magic just fine now – ”

Heather winced, not realizing how horrible the situation really was.

“Which means we can make our trunks light as feathers and mount them on the brooms. And last, well its night and dark and everyone’s asleep,” he dusted himself off and opened his trunk, searching for something.

“We can’t just – ”

Harry turned around, scanning the area behind them and she followed his lead, feeling like something was watching them. They both fixed their eyes on the rustling bushes on the other side of the street. They took out their wands and Harry cast Lumos, shining bright light ahead of them.

Heather’s hand went for Harry’s arm and squeezed tight as two large gleaming eyes came forward out of the bush. A large dark lump stepped out onto the curb, keeping its fierce eyes steady, and bared its large teeth. She pulled Harry back and they stepped slowly away from whatever black creature was inching towards them.

BANG

They jumped even farther back and both of them fell onto their trunks as a large purple object appeared in front of them before their eyes. She looked up at the glass doors of a giant triple decker bus as it swooshed open and a conductor in a matching purple uniform hopped down the stairs and looked down at them.

“’Choo two call for The Knight Bus?”

Harry stood quickly and walked around the side to where the beast was and came back shaking his head. The conductor looked at them funny and repeated his question slower.

Heather looked around and shrugged, and then nodded, “…Yes.”

“Then welcome! The Knight Bus will take u anywhere you wish, just say the place and you’ll be on your way! I’m Stan Shunpike, your conductor this night and that,” he jabbed his thumb back at the driver, “Is Ernie Prang.”

Heather turned to Harry and whispered, “We can go back now and – ”

“How much to get to London?” Harry picked up his trunk and walked towards Stan.

“’Leven Sickles,” he squinted at Harry’s forehead.

Heather coughed and directed Stan’s attention away while Harry fixed his hair to cover his scar, “No, sorry, we’re going to Privet Drive.”

“Well I’M going to the Leaky Cauldron in London,” Harry reached into his trunk and took out eleven sickles and handed them to Stan. “You can take her wherever she wants,” he boarded the bus.

Heather scoffed and kicked open her trunk, dug out eleven sickles and dropped it into Stan’s open hand. She kicked her trunk closed and dragged it up the steps. She stood next to Harry, looking at five beds on the floor of the bus, all empty but one, containing a snoring old man with a bright orange night cap.

“You can ‘ave that one, and you this one,” Stan pointed at the two closest beds. “Right, now it’s all settled – Do your thing, Ern!”

BANG

They fell back onto the bed behind the driver as the bus shot forward at incredible speeds. Harry and Heather pressed their faces against the window and watched the lights and cars zoom passed like lightning, street after street.

“H-how fast are we going? It l-looks really fast,” Harry gripped the metal rail tight as they turned a corner on only the left side wheels.

Heather gripped the bed frame to keep from rolling off the bed.

“Don’ know… fast. That’s for sure,” Stan leaned on the armrest of Ernie’s reclining chair. “Five seconds an’ we’re in Wales.”

They watched Stan walk to the wooden staircase and call out to a “Madam Marsh” before turning back to them. “So woss your names.”

“Er,” Harry looked at Heather.

She shook her head and shrugged at him.

“I’m… N…eville… Neville Longbottom.”

“Right… and I’m Heather… Longbottom,” she pressed her lips together and waited for a reaction from Stan.

“Wuh, siblings or somethin’?”

“Yes,” Harry grinned, “Twins actually.”

Stan grinned back and scratched at the few pimples on his chin, “Never met twins before, that’s coo’.”

They nodded and huddled closer on the bed as they narrowly avoided two red double-deckers on the street. Stan either had no regard for his life or had complete and utter confidence in the old man with thick round glasses squinting behind the giant wheel.

BANG

The bus stopped and the bed slid forward. They barely had enough time to bring their legs up onto the bed when the side crashed behind the small driver’s wall. Stan kicked them back and helped an older woman get off the bus.

BANG

They were sent back like a set of marbles trapped in a pinball machine. How the other wizard was still asleep was beyond Heather, but it was incredible seeing a whole new part to the wizarding world besides shoppers, teachers, and students.

“How old are you?” Heather call out to Stan.

He cupped his hands, “Nineteen.”

BANG

They were sent forward and bounced back, and two more wizards boarded and headed to the third floor. As Heather’s eyes followed them up she noticed a fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the bus. It swung ominously over them.

BANG

They bumped the back bed and rolled forward.

“When are we getting there,” Harry held his stomach.

Stan took out a large pocket watch, “In a minute.” He sat on the armrest again and unfolded the Daily Prophet.

Heather gasped as the same escaped convict on the muggle news stared back at them from the front page.

“That’s… Who is that? He was on the Muggle news!” Harry pointed.

“Neville, where you been? That’s Sirius Black, that is. Only wizard to have EVER escaped from Azkaban,” Stan tisked them and turned back to the page he was on, “Woz a big You-Know-‘Oo supporter. An’ only murdered thirteen people…” he looked at them from over the paper, “You two know of ‘Arry Potter, don’t you?”

They nodded quickly and Harry flattened his hair again.

“Good, at least. Well when he defeated You-Know-‘Oo, Sirius Black thought he’d take over, well it took a whole team of Aurors to bring ‘im in and all he did was laugh… Mad fellow, innee, Ern?”

BANG

The bed shot forward and bounced back, knocking Harry and Heather against each other.

“Well, ‘ere it is, the Leaky Cauldron,” Stan dragged Harry’s trunk from under his bed and rolled it down the stairs.

“Harry, look, you can wait here and I’ll go back and sort things out. You have enough for a few nights stay right?”

Harry frowned at her, “Sure. Whatever. If you’d rather live with the Dursleys – ”

She sighed, starting to get frustrated, “We need to stay somewhere permanent. We don’t have jobs. And if we’ve been expelled, we’ll have our wands snapped like Hagrid which means no magic.”

Harry’s frown disappeared and his expression turned worried again, “F-fine… Get in touch with me… somehow. I have enough for a week without your help so, either come back tomorrow if you can’t fix things or send Hedwig to me when she gets back.”

She nodded.

“At least the Weasleys will be back in two weeks,” Harry walked off the bus and rolled his trunk through the barely noticeable doors on the street.

Stan jumped back on and turned to her, “You’re the last one. So where to then?”

“4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey…” Heather sat back down on the front bed and held on tight as they shot forward again.

If it took thirty minutes to get to the Leaky Cauldron in London from the street they had stopped at, then it took around ten to make it back to Privet Drive. The bus halted in front of the Dursley’s house, whose lights were all still on.

She could see figures through the closed curtains, moving about and a strange pink car parked on the driveway. She picked up her trunk and headed out, waving goodbye to Stan and Ernie. The gravel crunched under her shoes and the night air howled through the tree leaves. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Within seconds the door flew open and an extremely tall and slightly chubby woman with a flashy eyeshadow smiled down at her.

“Ah, Miss Potter, dear, come in!”

Heather stepped through and looked at her awkwardly as the woman looked around outside before closing the door.

“Where is that wonderful brother of yours, dear?”

“He… uh… who are you?” Heather reached for her wand and held it firmly behind her, just in case.

“I’m from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad – the Minister of Magic sent us, Cornelius Fudge,” she smiled and pushed her through to the living room.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were seated on the couch across from a much smaller – older than even Dumbledore – man with a blue-feathered hat, who sat patiently sipping tea while Marge deflated in the backyard. The Tall woman took out a measuring tape and walked through the kitchen and out the glass doors to Marge and measured her arms, legs, head, neck, and waist.

She walked back in with a big grin, “Just a few more inches.”

“What will she say after all this!” Uncle Vernon grumbled and looked over at her, “So you’re back now, are you? Couldn’t handle the real world out there, could you?”

“Now, now, a deal’s a deal,” the tiny old man sung, “We put everything back to normal and the wee Potters can stay as they were, right here in their home.”

“MY home,” Uncle Vernon grumbled again.

“Where is your brother, dear?” the tall woman looked around again and down at Heather’s trunk.

“Not here… At the Leaky Cauldron – ”

“Ah, well then he’ll see the Minister of Magic there – he thought that was where he’d go – only a shame we couldn’t meet him.”

“Shame,” the tiny man repeated and took a sip of tea.

“Is… he in trouble? Are we expelled?”

“Oh dear, of course not! For blowing up your Aunt?” she laughed.

Uncle Vernon made a disgruntled noise.

“So…” Heather was trying to wrap her head around everything, “But last year a house elf’s magic got us in trouble – ”

“We should leave the past in the past, unless you’ve got yourself the right permits” the tiny man laughed, “Your brother will be staying there for the remainder of your vacation and there should be a room there for you too, paid for by the Ministry of course.”

Heather blinked multiple times, trying to understand how it was possible for Harry to have blown up Marge only to get them free rooms at Diagon Alley. She excused herself and walked out of the room and made her way up the stairs. Dudley was sitting on his bed watching his tv when she walked by and saw him jump off the bed and hide under it.

She walked into the bathroom and locked the door. She took a deep breath and crumpled onto the soft lime green mat, mentally and emotionally exhausted. She rolled onto her back and winced, digging out from under her a sharp green letter.

“I forgot!”

She unfurled it and ripped it open, pulling out a nice thick green card from inside.

‘Potter. If you don’t want to lose your spot on the team then I suggest you practice. You can either do a mediocre job with those Weasleys or you can come over to actually train with an experienced player.

– Draco Malfoy.’

It had slanted writing but overall, it was pretty neat, neater than Harry’s at least. She ran her hands through her hair and sat there thinking. He was right about them possibly losing their places if they didn’t train like Marcus wanted, with specific drills and everything. She loved Quidditch, almost as much as potions and herbology, and way more than art… but not as much as Harry and not more than she liked her friends who would likely see her going over as betrayal.

She laid back down and thrashed about angrily before sitting up and accepting how things where. She opened the door, walked out – ignoring Dudley’s squeal – and passed their open bedroom door when she saw Hedwig standing on the windowsill.

She ran over and took the letter from her beak.

‘Heather! Everything’s ok we aren’t going to Azkaban and we aren’t expelled! The Dursleys have to take us back and we get our own rooms here! For three weeks! For free! Food too! No punishments! Can you believe it? Hurry back!’

She frowned and took out a pen from their desk drawer, flipping the parchment over to respond.

‘I didn’t know YOU could have gone to Azkaban. And good we aren’t expelled.’

She paused and thought some more about Draco’s letter. She hated how happy he was everything worked out. He should have at least gotten a stern talking to… Well maybe she could make him see that not everything turns out well. She continued writing:

‘But the Dursleys are still extremely upset. I told them it was me since I’m the one back, and they say if I clean up around the house and do all the chores for the rest of vacation, then they won’t make us sleep outside next summer.’

“There.”

She would be killing four birds with one stone now. He would see she was right to come back, that there WERE repercussions to his actions, he would feel guilty, and she’d be able to go train with Draco without Harry knowing. She looked at the letter for a bit longer, knowing how guilty she’d feel lying like this. Not to mention the fact that last year Draco was saying awful stuff about Hermione and all the other muggle-borns…

“But Quidditch…” she groaned.

It wasn’t fair lots of Slytherins had such bad attitudes and opinions. She hadn’t even made any friends in her house yet for fear they’d be bad people and Harry, Ron, and Hermione would disapprove. And it was even worse that the only person her age on the team was a Malfoy. But she didn’t want to lose her place. And for the moment, he was the only one who was willing to go through all of Marcus’ drills with her and knew what they were.

“It’s not like we can play Quidditch in Diagon Alley,” she smiled and tied the letter to Hedwig’s leg, “See you, Hedwig. Make sure Harry is keeping me updated, alright?”

Hedwig hooted happily and flew away into the night. She went back downstairs and watched as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia got Marge into the house and up the stairs.

“Memory wiped and no harm done,” the tall woman smiled, “Shall we give you a lift?”

Heather smiled back, “That would be great, thank you… Do you know where Malfoy Manor is?”

The woman frowned, “My dear, are you sure you wouldn’t rather be with Harry Potter? The Malfoys – ”

“I’m sure, thanks,” Heather cut her off as politely as possible.

She knew everything she’d say. How could a POTTER go to the house or even be friends with a MALFOY, former Voldemort Supporters? Mortal enemies of famous HARRY POTTER? Well, multiple people have also asked how she, a Potter, could be a Slytherin and so it didn’t matter to her. All she wanted, was to be just as good at Quidditch as Harry – so long as it was still fun – and prove BOTH Potters were skilled and powerful. Not just Harry.

“I’ll put your trunk in the back then,” the tall woman exited the house.

Heather followed the other wizard to the car and got settled in the back. The woman closed the trunk and got in the diver’s side and started the car, pulled out and headed away from Privet Drive and to what Heather hoped was Malfoy Manor and not the Leaky Cauldron.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	4. Malfoy Manor Arrival

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

They had just left Privet Drive when a bird fluttering overhead under the moonlight, reminded Heather that she hadn’t replied to Draco yet about going over. The witch in the driver’s seat was turning into street after street looking for something and the man was pouring tea for them and talking about how curiously funny Uncle Vernon was.

“I need to send him an owl first!” Heather figured she’d get scolded for bad manners by the Malfoys and there was no way she’d allow Mr. Malfoy to yell at her like he had Harry. In fact, maybe she’d be forgiven easier if she made her stay at Malfoy Manor worth it for Harry and Ron somehow. “Can we stop by an Owl Post Office?”

“Oh certainly!” the witch squealed, “We can drop you off there and won’t have to go near that house! We don’t have to ride in this thing for much longer,” she smacked the car, “GO FASTER.”

They had arrived outside another house with pink rocks lining the driveway. The woman parked the car and got out, tiptoed over to Heather’s side and opened the car door for her and the old man. Confused, she followed their lead, closing the car doors quietly, and watched the witch take her trunk from the back and set it down.

“Um, where are we?”

The witch looked around and smiled, “Not sure, but its best we don’t stay for longer,” and held Heather and the man’s arms while gripping the trunk handle very tight. “We were just borrowing.”

Heather suddenly felt like she was being flung into a tornado, spinning around a million times a second. Her hair whipped around and she thought she was going to be sick when they suddenly stopped and the world stopped spinning around her.

There was a very small but tall building in front of them, sandwiched between two larger much more normal looking buildings, with four owls on the signpost reading ‘Owl Post Office’. The front of the small building looked like more of a quick mart than any post office and all the windows on every floor were lined with very eager looking owls.

“And here we are, just send your owl and the Floo to where you want to go – If it’s a no go from your friend then I suggest you Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. Alrighty!” she held the door open.

Heather nodded and blinked as she stepped into the very bright post office. It smelled like owl and the dinging bell was muffled by the sound of fluttering wings and excited hoots. She dragged her trunk to the counter and greeted the wizard who had been too busy with a crossword puzzle that rearranged itself with every mistake to notice her walk in.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” he held out hand, “Letter or package?”

He had a very low gruff voice, like he’d been snoring for hours and only recently woke up with a sore and raspy throat. Heather quickly wrote out a letter to Draco and rolled it up, handing it to the man.

“‘Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor’,” he put two fingers to his lips and whistled.

Heather looked up to see a storm of owls all diving down to his outstretched arm, about a hundred at a time. She yelped and ducked down, covering her hair until the sound of furiously fluttering wings had stopped. The winning owl was a large one, with gold tipped feathers and a very shiny beak and eyes as big as the moon outside.

“That’ll be, er, four Sickles,” he held out his hand again.

She nodded and dug out five Sickles to give him and watched as he counted them up and stuffed them in his pocket. He walked over to the fireplace and threw floo powder into it, creating large green flames. He took the owl flung it through, wiped his hands, and walked back to his chair to continue his puzzle.

“I thought owls flew to places on their own,” Heather tapped on the counter, waiting for a response.

The man balanced a quill on his lip for a minute before taking it and scribbling something down, “Muggles may be unobservant, but I don’t think any of them will miss hundreds of owls flying in and out of this building,” he put the quill back on his lip and pointed at the fireplace.

The green fires returned and the same owl was now back – looking a little sooty – with a green scroll attached to his leg. She held out her arm and it landed gracefully, sticking out his leg for her.

“Thank you,” she took the scroll and unrolled it.

‘Do you have any idea how early it is? If you must come now, then do it. I’ll be waiting by the fire. Remember our deal, I’ll help you with your drills if you help me with mine. If you hold me back, I’ll kick you out and the only Potter on that field will be famous Harry Potter right before I kick him to the ground. He’ll be a famous weeping baby when I’m done with him.

– Draco Malfoy’

She could still turn back if she wanted. She didn’t have to go through with it… She huffed and crumpled the paper up, stuffing it in her pocket. A day, she could stay for a day and see how that went. She paid for the floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. She stuck her hand in and felt the familiar wet coldness of the flames as they swirled around her skin. She stepped in and felt her trunk get pressed into her like they were being stuffed inside a tube.

“Malfoy Manor,” she threw the last of the powder down.

After several disorienting spins she stepped out when she saw a very bored looking Draco leaning against a chair twirling his wand between his fingers. He looked at her unimpressed and yawned as she shook her hair in the fireplace and dusted off.

The room they were in was not very large with two doors bolted shut to her left and a large, carpeted, staircase leading upstairs in the center. There was a door to the left and right of the stairs, probably leading to the rest of the first floor. Opposite the fireplace was a large wall mirror with a bright silver frame and bellow it were two elegant matching chairs. The walls were white with black furniture and green with silver accent colors running throughout.

“Welcome. You’re the first and last Potter to step into Malfoy Manor,” Draco stood straight and headed for the stairs, “Leave your trunk. Our new house elf will get it.”

Heather gulped, remembering Harry had freed their last one a few months ago, “Alright.”

She followed him up to the landing where a giant painting of the three Malfoys hung. Draco must have been no older than six, in his mother’s arms with Mr. Malfoy behind them with both hands on his wife’s shoulders. She followed him up the second set of stairs – the left ones – which lead to a long hall of doors to the left and a wood one to the right.

“That’s the library,” Draco opened the wooden door for Heather to look through, “Your room will be over here.” He closed the door and headed to the very last door, closest to the double front doors below.

She leaned over the railing to look at the pattern of their entrance hall tiles. She turned and entered the room where Draco was waiting, “Where’s your room?”

“Third floor stairs,” he yawned.

“Is… Does your father know I’m here?” Heather hated the idea of having to see Mr. Malfoy. After what he put Ginny through, how could she ever not hate his guts. “Will I see him?”

“Not likely if you don’t come down for breakfast. He leaves all day, comes back late, and on weekends he’s in his study,” Draco exited the room, “Your trunk’s behind you.”

The door closed and she was left alone in an exceptionally large room with a bed big enough for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and her to all sleep comfortably. She pushed the trunk down and winced as it banged on the floor a lot louder than she had realized it would. She grit her teeth and turned to the door, half expecting any one of the Malfoys to barge in yelling at her… but nothing happened.

She breathed out and dragged it onto the floral rug at the foot of her bed and opened it, pulling out her pajamas and propping her broom up on the dresser. She closed the curtains to the windows overlooking their driveway and changed out of Dudley’s old polo that she kept tucked into last year’s summer skirt. If there was one thing Pansy was right about, it was that she was absolutely right about Heather lacking any style.

She climbed into bed and gasped at the softness of the covers, the sheets, the pillows… the mattress! “Ohh!” she smiled and snuggled in deeper. Even the Hogwarts beds couldn’t compare to this. “Next time Malfoy complains about Harry getting ANYTHING – ” she punched the air, “He has EVERYTHING.” Way more than he deserved, and way more than Harry gets for being ‘famous Harry Potter’.

She was about to fall asleep when something tapped her window. She groaned and got back out of bed – the day’s events finally manifesting in her muscles and bones – and pulled the curtains back to look at Hedwig twisting her head in all directions to look at her.

She opened the window, “I didn’t mean get him to write me THIS soon…”

Hedwig dropped the letter from her beak and sat on the windowsill.

‘You should have stayed with me, Fudge had it all worked out. He fixed everything. Doesn’t matter now. Sorry I can’t help you, I’m under strict orders not to leave the area for three weeks. I’ll get all your books though! And I’ll buy you an ice cream? Anyways feed Hedwig when you get this, she kept pecking me.’

Now she knew that the guilt of doing something so reckless they could have gotten expelled never set in for him. She felt less bad about fibbing about her stay at Malfoy Manor, and wrote out a quick ‘Ok, see you soon’ reply. She tied it to Hedwig and let her out.

She closed the window and ran back to bed, knowing Draco would be as bad as Marcus tomorrow during training. Actually, worse since he would have to listen to her when it came to the drills she would make him do. She closed her eyes and fell asleep in the softest, comfiest bed she could have ever imagined.

There was a loud pop, like a firecracker had gone off inside a sealed cauldron. Heather sat up quickly and opened her eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight shining through the closed curtains and noticed the silhouette of an elf.

“Dobby?”

“Feeno,” the elf frowned and pointed at the night table with some water and a breakfast plate. “Master Draco is waiting in the back yard.” He waited for her to nod before popping away.

Heather got out of bed and ran to her trunk, taking out her Quidditch uniform and throwing it on quickly, eating some of her breakfast as she tied her shoes and robes with double knots. She grabbed her broom and opened the door, finding Feeno hunched over a stain on the wood, trying to rub it away.

Feeno looked up at her and sighed heavily, “This way.” He led her down the stairs to the entrance hall and through the right-most door. She walked through a wide passageway with only one door in the center and a large brass lock. The elf led her out another door that lead to the outside.

Heather gasped at how large his backyard was, though she would call it a grass field with a garden along the smooth stone fence. She spotted Draco gliding around in the air, doing loops and diving. He spotted her and sped down to meet her halfway.

“Alright, let’s practice, Potter.” He turned to the elf, “Get the case.”

Heather mounted her broom and touched off, “You could say please.”

He rolled his eyes, “I didn’t invite you here so you could nag. My father heard from Pucey’s father that no one had a guaranteed spot on the team. Flint’s looking for a better Seeker,” he took the case from Feeno, opened it and took out the Snitch and Quaffle, “and better Chasers.”

He shoved the Quaffle into her hands and released the Snitch. She couldn’t believe Marcus was looking for whole new members, though it did make sense. She heard every year he picked only the toughest and strongest who tried out, and her and Draco were neither.

“Potter!” Draco snapped his fingers to get her attention, “I wasn’t joking about kicking you out.”

Heather dropped the Quaffle and flew up to him, explaining the drills Marcus had her do to fly evenly under pressure. They trained on that for several hours – Heather playing the part of her brother and enemy Seeker, very impressed with her own skills that almost matched Draco’s – until he was used to the drills. At one point she had picked up a bunch of pebbles and pinecones and instructed Feeno to throw them at Draco randomly trying to distract him.

Heather wiped her forehead and panted, trying to catch her breath, “Can we take a lunch break? It’s almost two and we’ve been training since ten-thirty.”

Draco shrugged off his robe and draped it over his broom. “Lunch,” he snapped his fingers at Feeno. “Let’s go in, Father’s at work and Mother won’t be back until later.”

Heather followed Draco down and into the house. He led her up a different set of stairs to the second floor, past a giant library full of books and two desks with elegant quills, into a dining room. The table was long and the wood shined as bright as the entrance hall tiles.

He pointed at the chair across from him and sat down. Heather pulled out the chair and sat, looking around awkwardly. The only other chairs at the table were the ones on the ends, far away from each other.

“Why are your chairs so far away?” Heather pointed at the two chairs, “Isn’t it hard to talk?”

Draco laughed, “Of course you’d be confused by it, Potter. Let me guess, in your kitchen and have to share elbow space with those Muggles you call ‘family’.”

She scoffed, “At least none of us have to scream to be heard.”

“No one screams – ”

“I was exaggerating.”

He picked up a fork and twirled it on its tips, “Whatever, Potter. Where’s your brother now, anyways. Doesn’t he miss his shadow?”

She bit down on her cheek and shook her head, “What do you care? Miss him already?” She knew better than to give away Harry’s location so easily.

If they had been allowed to use magic, Draco would have hexed her, she could tell by the way his eyes gleamed with anger. Feeno was back and set two plates of sandwiches and soup. The elf poured them juice and stood in the corner, inspecting the doorknob for smudges.

Heather happily took the little sandwich slices and dipped the in the soup, watching as the bread turned soggy and brown as it absorbed the liquid. She liked the spread between the bread and the lettuce, whatever it was. Even the tomato was juicier than the ones from Hogwarts. The Ministry must prioritize quantity over quality for the food at their school or the Malfoys really knew how to pick their produce.

“So,” she dabbed a napkin on her chin, “What do you do for fun here?”

Draco leaned back and scoffed, “At my house?” He looked around with a slightly disgusted look on his face, “There isn’t anything to do. I fly on my broom or study or… Leave. Over the summer’s I hang out with my friends – real friends – ”

Heather rolled her eyes, “You must DO something though. Don’t you? What if no one can come over or no one invites you over?”

Draco slammed his glass down, spilling juice on the table – which Feeno was quick to clean up, muttering his apologies to his master – and scowled, “My friends are ALWAYS available, Potter. Something I’m sure you couldn’t relate to.”

“Why are you so rude! It’s perfectly normal for people to be busy sometimes. I’m just asking what’s fun around here!”

Draco stood up, “I’ll be in my room. FEENO!”

The elf quickly apparated beside Draco, “Sir?”

“You can show her to hers,” he stormed out of the room, flinging the doors so hard the bounced off the wall.

Harry was right, he did act like Dudley sometimes. It was a simple question that did not call for such a heated tantrum. She took a few more sandwiches and followed Feeno back to her room, passing quickly through the library as if she’d suddenly decide to take a book if she lingered for too long. The elf opened her door for her and pointed at her Quidditch robes, then to a large mirror with a glittering frame.

“Don’t get the furniture dirty. Bathroom’s through there.”

Heather forced the doors closed and sighed, “I get it. I stink.”

She dug around her trunk for a nice pair of clothes – the closest she got was an old lazily-sewn shirt that belonged to Petunia last summer – and her old skirt. The shirt fit fine – somewhat – but the skirt was starting to get a little tight around her hips. She’d have to buy a new one soon.

She walked over to the mirror and stared at it for a while. She pulled on the frame but it didn’t budge like the Gryffindor tower door. She looked at herself in the mirror and raised her hand to touch the glass. It felt solid at first, and then like gelatin. She pushed her hand and felt it go through, reminding her of the pool of water on the roof of the cave from last year.

She closed her eyes and stepped through. She opened them and looked around at the quaint little bathroom with a large tub and silver rose candleholders. It wasn’t too bright, like the Dursley’s bathroom, and felt very romantic in nature. She smiled and looked around, making sure she didn’t have to close any windows or lock any doors for privacy, and turned on the tub.

“Worth it,” she jumped in and soon the argument with Draco melted away.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	5. Leaving Malfoy Manor

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

The next morning Heather was woken up by Feeno again and the smell of fresh bread. He held up her cleaned Quidditch robes and pointed to the breakfast on the nightstand. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, dreading seeing Draco again. The rest of her day yesterday was spent studying on the bed, free to spread out all her books without the fear that one of the Dursleys would barge in at any second.

“Tell him I’ll be right there,” she groaned and sat up, rubbing the dried drool from her chin.

“Feeno will take you,” he dropped her uniform and popped out of sight.

She changed slowly, purposely trying to keep Draco waiting, and exited the room. She pretended like she couldn’t see Feeno and walked ahead of him as best she could. He tugged on her robes but she marched on – lightly whacking him with the end of her broom – the way he showed her yesterday until she reached the outside.

Draco flew down and threw the Quaffle at her, “We’ll do my drills and then yours.”

Heather threw the Quaffle back, “No, we didn’t even get to my drills yesterday. We’ll start with mine.”

He threw his head back and groaned, “Fine. What are they?”

She listed off what he was supposed to do and explaining how Adrian and Marcus partnered with her for throws and dives. Normally Marcus just had her do dodging and distracting maneuvers as defense, but if she was going to stay on the team this year, she felt she had to do more.

“Make sure you’re really aggressive, ok? I can take it. During tryouts we might be up against… larger… opponents and we should be read.”

Draco nodded, “So, what? Kick your broom and elbow you when I can?”

Heather bit her lip and nodded, “Y-yeah… That should be fine.”

She touched off the ground and practiced her catching as Draco and her sped around his yard, throwing the Quaffle back and forth. Next they started higher and dove while catching, followed by sharp turn throws, and finally back-to-forward throws and catches. Draco kept dropping the ball, but Feeno kept the ball in play as best he could.

“Ok, I’ll try to get the Quaffle over there, and you try to knock me off my broom.”

Draco flew away and readied himself for a full intersecting tackle. Heather gripped her broom tight and shot forward. Draco followed her lead and stuck his arm out, ready to knock her out of the air. Heather dropped the Quaffle down to her feet, caught it and held it tight, and pressed herself to the handle, ducking under his outstretched arm as he passed. The second she cleared him she tried grabbing the Quaffle again and dropped it. It appeared in the air in front of her thanks to Feeno, and she took it, slowing down to a stop. Draco flew back with a weird look on his face.

“What’s that called!” he took the Quaffle and threw it up, “Can you do it again?”

Heather shrugged, “I made it up… and I can try. Let’s do it again, exactly like that.”

The next three attempts ended in both brooms colliding and bruised skulls and ribs. They were on their fourth attempt and Heather managed to drop the Quaffle down to catch with her legs and ducked like last time. The second she cleared his hesitant arm, she twirled in the air and dropped the Quaffle when her feet were up, catching it in her arms and twirling right side up again.

She turned and smiled at Draco, “That was cool!”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, “Don’t grow your head like your brother, Potter. When will we ever need you to do that?”

She joined him in the center, “Well I want to make more points, so I need to learn how to keep the Quaffle on me.”

“You? You can’t even throw as far as Flint. Let alone Pucey.”

Heather’s smile dropped. He was right about that. Marcus and Adrian had real strength and used their full power to fling the Quaffle through the hoops.

“My turn, same as yesterday.”

The next few hours were spent on perfecting Draco’s reflexes and flying focus. He seemed more confident diving and was sure he came close to matching Harry’s natural talents as a Seeker. They headed inside again for a late lunch and took the same seats as before.

This time they were served pasta like the kind Uncle Vernon often brought home for Dudley after important meetings. She always imagined the restaurant he went to was very fancy because every leftover pasta brought home had a little green leaf at the top. She savored the creamy sauce and licked her lips, not wanting to waste a drop.

“Are we done for the day?” she looked over at Draco and saw him nod with a mouthful of pasta. “Will you show me your library then?” She wondered what sort of books they had, or if other wizards could even have a library as gran as Hogwarts’.

“It’s just a library. But fine. As long as you don’t touch anything I tell you not to,” he shrugged.

After the pasta was gone she followed Draco to the library, keeping her hands to herself, as he went through naming sections. Most of the books seemed pretty boring compared to the selections in the Hogwarts Library and she could only assume all of these books were there for Draco’s parents only.

He stopped at a section with a thin grey veil covering the bookcase, “Behind there is the Dark Arts books.”

Heather reached out to lift the veil but Draco stopped her.

“If I’M not allowed to look at them, I won’t allow YOU to. Father says when I’m older he’ll personally go through them with me.” He crossed his arms, looking smug, “He says I might be a natural with it since I get good grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts without even trying.”

Heather laughed, “Yeah we all do. It’s not like the last few teachers were any good,” she squinted, trying to read the names of the books through the veil.

“Well not just there, Potter!” he spat back. “I know loads of hexes too, just wait for this year. Your friends won’t know what hit them.”

“Why do you always have to threaten them? Why can’t you just stay away?” she knew the answer already.

“Your brother’s the one that started it and if he doesn’t back down then one day he’ll regret – ”

The door opened and a woman with blonde hair walked in, holding her arms crossed with a tight face devoid of any emotion except for the anger in her eyes. Heather watched her uncross her arms and hold her hands politely over her stomach. Her lips were thins as she studied the scene and looked over Heather.

“Draco, why don’t you and your friend go play outside? Away from the library,” she smiled and motioned for the doors.

Heather looked at Draco. He nodded and pushed Heather towards the door. If his mother wasn’t there, she would have elbowed him for pushing her but since she was Heather only scowled. They made their way back down and outside to sit on one of the stone steps.

“Why can’t we be in there?” Heather remembered that somewhere in the house the Malfoys kept several illegal dark arts things that Mr. Weasley keeps trying to find. Where was it he said they were hidden?

Draco looked at her intensely, trying to determine how he should respond. He frowned and leaned in, trying to look as menacing as possible without Crabbe and Goyle there to back him up, “Keep your mouth shut about it. It doesn’t leave this house or I’ll deal with you myself.” He glanced back in towards the house, “Let’s just say there’s books in there that wouldn’t even be allowed in the restricted section. I’m not allowed to talk about them.”

“Is that… legal?”

“Thinking of telling the Weasleys? Well don’t bother. That old fool knows all the books my Father has. Books aren’t considered artifacts if they’re for learning and don’t harm the readers just for reading. Wizard law.”

Heather looked back at the house, “Where do people get books like that? I’ve been to the Dark Arts section and I haven’t seen any too dangerous for school. They mainly just explain stuff… actually they don’t really have any spells in them…”

Draco flicked a flower head off the stem with his thumb, “You don’t. Not anymore. The Ministry regulates what’s published now. Only powerful wizard families have those types of books. Obviously why I have some,” he looked smug again. “They’re too scared to let wizards learn those spells.”

The sun was getting close to setting and the air outside turned chilly as it waved through the leaves above and trimmed grass below. It was awkward sitting next to Draco, especially being somewhere between despising him and getting along – though leaning more on despising. She supposed she was lucky he hasn’t said anything worth punching him for.

“I’m going to go study,” Draco stood up and brushed his trousers off.

Heather frowned, “What, for the rest of the day? Really?”

“I’m too tired to fly so what else can we do. Crabbe and Goyle aren’t able to hang out – ”

“Can I see your room?” She read in one of Aunt Petunia’s home décor magazines that someone’s house was a view into their soul, and if there was any soul she wanted to see, it was Draco’s. She imagined his room would be filled with portraits of himself and his family, along with shiny jewel encrusted statues, something that screamed ‘son of a rich wizard’.

His interest looked peaked, “Alright. Follow me.”

He led her to the entrance hall and up the main stairs and up the right ones leading to the hall of doors across the balcony from her room. She turned into the hall but noticed Draco opening the wood door to their immediate left towards the rest of the second floor.

She followed him through the door. She thought it would lead into the library like the one across the balcony, but was instead faced with a set of stairs leading to the third floor. The stairs didn’t creak and groan like the Dursleys’ and the railing was very smooth. Her palm glided up the wood effortlessly.

“Father’s study, parent’s room, and mine,” he pointed and turned the knob to the far door.

Heather let her mouth drop. It wasn’t the large bookcases, large bed, beautiful wallpaper, or vibrant green carpet that matched the sheer curtains hung over glass double doors that probably lead to a balcony that made her mouth hang open dumbly. It was all the posters of the Falmouth Falcons covering the walls with a few smaller posters of Puddlemere United. It was as bad as Ron’s room.

“So the Falmouth Falcons are your favorite team, then?” Heather looked at the giant banner of their motto.

Draco spotted her staring at the banner. “‘Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads.’ Flint says he keeps asking to make that our Slytherin Quidditch motto, but Professor Snape won’t let him.”

She walked over to a little pile of marbles jumping over each other on the ground, almost seeming to be in the middle of a game with each other. Draco’s owl hooted at her from the windowsill and she nodded at it. Opposite the bed was a desk and a pile of magazines with amazing brooms from prototypes to non-tournament legal hobby ones flying around the covers and spines. Draco fell onto his bed and picked up the magazine already open on his bed, continuing on whatever page he was on.

“How many of your rooms fit into mine?” he made a square with his fingers and moved it along the air, “I’m going to guess four.”

She crossed her arms, “Three. Actually.” She spotted a Quidditch book with a golden arm breaking a broom with its fist on the floor, “‘Quidditch Crunches, Crouches, and Curls’?”

“Oh. Yeah, not many exercises for Seekers in there.” He walked over and picked it up, flipping to the Chaser section, “That might interest you, and if you can manage it – though I doubt it, Potter – it could help give you a better chance during tryouts AND benefit the team.”

She looked through all the exercises starting with the easier ones and ending on a picture of a man holding the jaws of a giant alligator open, “I could do some of these after my drills, and the easy ones I can do anywhere.” She started to get excited, “I could get better at throwing the Quaffle! I could score points!”

She could imagine herself now, Adrian and Marcus actually passing the Quaffle to her with the intention of helping HER score. Beating the all Weasley team next summer with her incredible apple throwing strength. Being strong enough to hold back Harry from doing something stupid like lunging at Draco.

She walked over to Draco’s large mirror and held up her arm, “How long do muscles take to grow?”

He shrugged and flipped the magazine page, “There might be a potion that speeds it up, but maybe a week?”

She laughed, “It takes longer than a week… I’m pretty sure…” She flipped to the first exercise labeled ‘Barrel pushes’ and dropped to the floor, “It says advanced wizards will put a barrel of seahogs inside and if your back isn’t straight they’ll fall out and burn you… but maybe this book could work instead. Will you put it on me?”

Draco groaned, “No more favors or you’ll owe me. MORE.” He placed the book on her back and stepped away, watching as she tried pushing up with her arms.

“Step one…” She groaned and shut her eyes tight until she felt her arms extend all the way with elbows locked. “Step two…” Slowly she tried lowering herself until her nose touched the soft carpet. “One… of fifty… repeated thrice.”

After reaching twenty barrel pushes she gave up in time for Draco to be called down to eat dinner with his family. He invited her half-heartedly but she declined and accepted for Feeno to bring her up her dinner. There was no way she was going to sit down at a table with all the Malfoys… His mother hadn’t even greeted her earlier.

Draco led her back to her room and within minutes Feeno delivered a fresh plate of steak and roasted potatoes with baked sprouts on the side. She sat in bed eating away and flipping through the pages, writing everything down in detail for use after she left the Malfoy Manor.

She stayed the full week, practicing all the drills and doing as many exercises as she could manage. Once Draco tried to join in, but gave up quickly saying he had forgotten something, but she knew he hadn’t. By the last day she stood by her mirror, frowning at the lack of muscles she had grown. In the back of her head she had been hoping Draco was right about it only taking one week.

After Mr. Malfoy had left for work, Feeno floated her trunk down to the fireplace in the entrance hall where Draco was already dressed and waiting.

“Better not tell anyone you were here, got it?” he handed her a small green bag of powder with the letter ‘M’ in the middle.

She took it and stepped into the fireplace with her trunk, “I won’t. Pansy would get too annoying.” She poured the powder into her hand and threw it down and did her best to whisper the location, “Leaky Cauldron.”

Once again, she was thrust into a humid tornado of commotion until she stepped out in the dusty backroom of the leaky cauldron. She dusted off her hair and clothes – blew dust away from her toad – and pushed the door open labeled ‘To Counter’ and spotted Tom serving drinks to a very chipper old witch. As soon as she stepped into view Tom came around the counter and took her trunk.

“Ah, Miss Potter. I didn’t see you come in! Mrs. Wogsen was talking my ear off – but I won’t talk yours off.”

Heather gave him a small chuckle and looked at the stairs.

“Yes, your room. It’s across the hall from Harry Potter! – er – Your brother.”

“Thank you…” Heather followed him up the stairs and looked around her room. It was better than their room… but not by much. And definitely didn’t compare to the Malfoy’s guest bedroom.

“Shall I let Harry Potter know you’re here?” Tom turned to knock on Harry’s door excitedly but she stopped him quickly.

“Let him sleep longer, I know what time he wakes up,” she needed a shower before she saw him, not wanting to smell like burnt wood when she was supposed to have arrived by car.

She closed the door and dug out new clothes, placing them next to the small sink. She dropped down to the tile floor and did as many exercises as she could before ripping off her sweaty clothes and taking a warm bath in the cramped tub. She missed the nice smelling bubbles and large soft towels. The towels here smelled weird like the water and were as rough as the bedsheets.

No wonder Draco was so rude all the time. She’d only spent a week at the Manor and she was already complaining about everything. “Being rich makes everything stink,” she drained the tub and watched it gurgle and pop. She jumped onto the bed and groaned as a spring poked her side, “I’ll never live rich again.”

She made a checklist of all the homework that needed to be done before school started, along with all the materials that they needed. She checked off all her assignments and left the little squares empty for Harry. She checked off the ‘Monster Book of Monsters’ for the both of them and added ‘Refill money bags’ to the list.

She was ready and prepared to see Harry and marched over to his door, excited to start checking things off, and knocked three times, “Harry! Are you awake?” She heard a groan.

“No. Give me an hour!”

“An hour? How late did you sleep!”

“…Not late… not very late. It’s just early.”

It was twelve. She sighed and walked back to her room and slowly laid down. She was desperate to get the last week over with. She wanted to be back at Hogwarts. She wanted to get started on learning. And she wanted to hear crowds chant her name like they chanted Harry’s. She was determined to win the house cup back.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	6. The Leaky Cauldron

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather paced Harry’s room looking at the stack of books on his bed while he yawned and slouched over the headboard. She dragged her quill down the list she had made and checked off each box as she read the textbook names.

“Looks like that’s almost everything,” Heather smiled and folded up the parchment.

Harry sighed, “What are we missing, and can we go get it now? I’m bored.”

“We need the Divination book,” she headed for the door, “So let’s go.”

Harry jumped out of bed and ran in front of her, heading out the room first. Heather ran after him, taking the stairs two at a time and nearly passed him a few feet from the door. They touched the back door at the same time and gasped, trying to catch their breath.

“I won.”

“No you didn’t!”

The bricks were extra red that morning with the sun shining brightly on them. Harry tapped the bricks and they moved quickly, letting in to Diagon Alley where the morning bustle was filled with extra chatter as more students visited the shops for their materials.

As they walked to the bookstore, they looked over the bobbing heads to try to spot bright brown bushy hair or outstanding orange hair. Hermione and the Weasleys were nowhere to be seen yet. Heather had spent the last week helping Harry with his essays and now this last week was spent looking for their friends among the crowds and purchasing their materials extra slow in case they saw them.

The bookshop was not as busy as the other stores yet and the manager came over quickly to offer them help. Heather took out her list and looked for the missing book they needed.

“Er, two copies of ‘Unfogging the Future’ by – ”

“Cassandra Vablatsky, yes yes,” he led them to the divination section and pointed out the books on the shelf.

She took two and turned to follow the manager back but Harry stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Look,” he stared at the misty image of a black dog with sharp black eyes.

“‘Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst is Coming’?” She shook her head. They were definitely not purchasing that. Harry would probably carry that book around everywhere pointing out a bunch of death omens.

The manager chuckled, “Oh don’t worry about ever needing that. Those books always just scare people and very rarely do anything good.”

They followed the manager to the register and paid. They had been in Flourish and Blotts for a total of ten minutes and the rest of their morning, afternoon, and evening were now completely free. They walked back to the Leaky Cauldron and up to Harry’s room with the rest of their materials to be packed away in their trunks.

Harry sat down on the bed and tapped his fingers on the cover of his divination book, “Heather?”

She was closing the door after dragging her trunk into his room from hers. “Yes?”

“D’you think… What we saw that night was a death omen?”

“Saw what night Harry?”

“That thing coming out of the bushes before the Knight Bus arrived.”

She had a hard time recalling it but did remember something about a black blob-ish creature, “Oh… Well it was just a dog or something. A stray, Harry. Now please pack your things and forget about that omens book.”

The next few days were spent walking around Diagon Alley and looking through shop windows. She had forbidden Harry from taking any of their money with him and had to refuse his beggings for a new broom. On the last day they decided to go for some ice cream and sit outside watching as people went by with their bags filled with goods.

“Heather!”

“Harry!”

Hermione and Ron came running down the stream of wizards to hug them. They got some more ice cream and the four of them sat down.

“We heard why you were staying at the Leaky Cauldron,” Hermione crossed her arms.

Heather and harry looked at each other and then frowned at Ron.

His ears went red, “Dad mentioned it and I… might have let it slip.”

“I CAN’T believe you two blew up your AUNT!”

Heather pointed at Harry, “He did. Not me.”

Harry pushed her finger away, “I didn’t mean to. It just sort of… happened.”

“Ron stop laughing! This is serious! You could have gotten expelled Harry!”

Heather turned to him as well, “Actually apparently he could have gone to Azkaban.”

Ron snorted, “No one would send Famous Harry Potter to AZKABAN. Get real. Everyone else though would be mad to do what you did. I’d definitely be sent to Azkaban for that.”

Heather flicked Harry’s ear and turned to Ron, “Can we go home with you? Since it’s the last day?”

“No need, we’re staying at the Leaky and so is Hermione. Dad’ll take everyone to King’s Cross tomorrow.” Ron’s eyes widened and he almost reach in his robes with his ice cream hand. “Look at this!” he pulled out a long wand with his other hand, “My very own wand! Brand new too.”

Heather looked down at the large lumpy bag next to Hermione, “What’s all that?”

She patted it happily, “Oh, well I’ve been approved to take several more classes. Took all summer owling back and forth with Professor McGonagall. Apparently, it had to be approved by the school governors.”

Heather felt very ill suddenly, like her heart had dropped to her stomach and the flush on her face felt closer to embarrassment than anger but neither of those words described the feeling very well. “But-what-How did… How many new subjects? I don’t understand. Did they pick you? Did you ask?”

Hermione nodded, “Professor McGonagall talked to me about it after I asked if I could take them all.”

“How many more? Which classes?”

She shrugged, “All of them. Let’s see,” she started counting on her fingers. “Divination and care of magical creatures like you guys, plus Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy,” she smiled.

The three of them just stared at her with annoyance.

“And when will you be blocking in sleeping and eating?” Harry laughed finally, half hoping it was a joke for her sake.

Ron still stared at her, “Heather I’m glad you haven’t decided to turn into a school zombie this year.”

Heather glared at him and quickly finished her ice cream, “Let’s go already.” She should have asked Professor Snape about taking more classes. Why did she think Hermione wanting to take them all was somehow a joke? Maybe she could still come in first in the classes that were the same…

Hermione jumped up, “Oh! I’m allowed to get a pet for school this year! Early birthday present from my parents.”

Ron wiped his hands on his shirt and pointed over to the top of the winding cobble street, “Magical Menagerie’s over there.”

Magical Menagerie was a small shop made even smaller by the dozens of cages covering the walls with squeaking, squawking, rattling, and hissing. Heather and Ron went immediately to check on the treats and snacks for toads and rats while Harry helped Hermione pick an animal.

“I don’t think any of these will help Scabbers,” Ron sighed and looked away from the assortment of magical treats.

Heather leaned in and squinted her eyes at Scabbers. He was looking very ill, with bald patches in odd places. “Ask the witch. She might give you something specific.” She followed Ron up to the register.

“Miss? My rat’s ill. He got like that a few days ago after we came back from Egypt.”

She took out thick round glasses that made her eyes as big as the sugar coated fat toad flies and took him in her hands. “Have you tried banging him a few times?”

Ron nodded, “But he won’t perk up.”

The witch held him upside down by his tail while he wriggled around, “He looks ancient. How old is he?”

“Er. Old. Very, very, old, I think. He’s been in my family for twelve years.”

“Well there are many reasons why a rat might do this. What powers does it have?”

Heather and Ron looked at each other and shrugged.

“None, I don’t think. He just is.”

She pointed at his bitten ear and missing toe, “Run him through the wash?”

Ron’s ears went pink and looked at both the witch and Heather defensively, “No! I’m not that forgetful. Percy gave ‘im to me like that.”

“Well, no normal rat lives longer than five years so it must be a mix. Don’t worry there’re hundreds of these things living throughout the cities. No ordinary rats but certainly not as hard-working or hard-wearing than pure wizarding rats.” She placed Scabbers on the counter and kept him trapped under her hand as she pulled out a cage from under the counter, “Like these. I can get you a discount on a replacement if you’d like. Pick from one of these.”

Ron shook his head and took Scabbers back, “No. He works just fine for now.”

“Is there nothing else he can do?” Heather watched the rats in the cage skip rope with their tails and show off their little furry arms, “Like a shot or pill or something?”

The witch sighed, “Here.” She produced a little red glass bottle from under the counter, “See if that’ll help.”

“Thanks – HEY!”

A giant orange cat with long matted fur jumped down from the tall shelf above the witch’s head and onto Ron’s. Ron threw his head forward and the cat landed on its back on the counter and swatted Scabbers out of Ron’s grip.

“CROOKSHANKS! COME BACK HERE,” the witch pulled on the cat’s tail as it jumped off the counter and chased Scabbers out the open door.

Ron and Heather ran after them, following the bright orange fur between people’s feet. Crookshanks had pinned Scabbers down between its paws and was about to bite his neck when Ron and Heather dived for them. Ron pulled Scabbers out while Heather picked a very heavy Crookshanks up like an enormous baby.

Huffing and puffing they made their way back to the Magical Menagerie to find Harry and Hermione waiting by the counter with no owl picked out. Heather placed Crookshanks back on the counter and held him down for the witch.

“Well. Here he is,” the witch said to Hermione.

“He’s perfect!” Hermione tried picking him up and groaned, “Oh! You made it look easy, Heather.”

“What do you mean he’s perfect? For what?” Ron looked to Hermione and the coins on the counter, “Whose are those?”

“Mine,” the witch took them and dropped them in her apron.

“Harry asked where you guys went and she told us about Crookshanks and about how he’s been here for YEARS so of course I had to take him,” Hermione hugged the floppy cat tightly.

“Yeah? Did she tell you how he tried to murder my rat just now?”

Hermione scoffed, “It’s just his instinct, Ron. It’s not murder.”

Ron looked to Heather and Harry but they just shook their heads, refusing to take sides. They walked out together but Ron refused to walk next to Hermione and Crookshanks. They made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Mr. Weasley was sitting at the bar drinking and reading the Daily Prophet when they walked in. He smiled and waved them over, “Harry! Heather! Good to see you two.” He looked down at Crookshanks and nodded at him, “And your new friend.”

Hermione nodded and lifted him up higher before giving Ron a look and heading up the stairs towards her room.

“Black’s still on the loose?” Harry pointed at the man screaming on the front cover.

Mr. Weasley pressed his lips together, “Yes. Unfortunately. A lot of wizards have been tasked to assist in his capture. I’m even doing some patrols here in Diagon Alley.”

“Hope we’re the ones who catch him. The reward money’s big, isn’t it?”

Mr. Weasley shook his head, “No, no. He’s far too dangerous. If I find him I’m supposed to sound the alarm. He’s too dangerous for any Weasley or Potter,” he looked at the twins, “to catch. The Azkaban guards will do that. Understand?”

The three of them nodded and Mr. Weasley went back to smiling.

Mrs. Weasley came in followed by Fred and George, Giny, and Percy. Mrs. Weasley greeted them with a hug and Giny said hello to Heather but could barely look at Harry when she greeted him after. Percy stepped forward and extended his hand to each of them.

“Heather. Harry. How very nice to see you both,” he gave them a quick nod and straightened his shirt.

“Hello, Percy.”

“Hello,” Harry turned to Heather trying not to laugh.

“I see you are both doing well,” Percy motioned to them generally with his hands and folded them behind his back.

Heather nodded awkwardly, “We are – ”

Fred and George pulled Percy back and took his place.

“Mr. Potter, how very splendid a coincidence to see you in this exquisite establishment,” Fred bowed and tipped his fake top hat.

George followed suit, “Miss Potter, how have you spent this marvelous evening? I trust the day has treated you well?”

Everyone but Percy and his parents laughed.

“Alright, boys, move along. Harry! Heather,” she hugged them both really tight. “Did you get our presents? Can you believe we got to spend the summer in Egypt? How were your birthdays?”

“Yes, yes, and good,” Harry smiled.

“And Percy made Head Boy! Oh, another one in the family – ”

“The last one,” Fred interrupted.

“I’m certain,” she frowned at him.

Heather, Harry, and Ron went up to join Hermione for an hour before they all came back downstairs for dinner. The innkeeper had put several tables together for all seven Weasleys, Heather, Harry, and Hermione to fit comfortably. They enjoyed eating the special for that night, rotisserie chicken and biscuits, and enjoyed hearing about Egypt and Hermione’s week in France.

“How are you taking us all to the train tomorrow?” Fred looked at his mom, “You still have time to teach us how to apparate.”

“You’re not of age,” Percy scolded them.

“The Ministry is lending me cars, we’ll all fit just fine, don’t worry,” Mr. Weasley interrupted before another fight broke out.

“It doesn’t have to fit us all, Percy can apparate himself to school. He’s ‘of age’,” Fred took first scoops into the chocolate pudding.

Percy moved the pudding bowl towards Hermione right beside him, “Guests first.”

“We’re all guests,” George mumbled.

“Thank you, Percy dear. Fred. Enough of that,” Mrs. Weasley wagged her finger.

Percy gave Fred a winning smile and turned away, “Why are we getting cars?”

“Because we don’t have our old one anymore,” Mrs. Weasley turned to Ron who looked down at his pudding.

Percy turned to Ron too, “All your stuff is on my bed so you better pack before we sleep, Ron.”

Ron scowled at Percy who only rolled his eyes.

They passed around the bowl of pudding and everyone enjoyed second and third helpings. After dinner everyone went to their rooms to go to bed, and while Ron packed, Heather, Harry, and Hermione kept him company.

“Has the rat tonic done anything yet?” Heather poked the lump in Ron’s shirt pocket.

“No,” Ron jammed his clothes into his trunk and sat on top, trying to shut it.

“It’ll fit if you fold it,” Hermione pulled him off and started showing him how to fold.

“Fine then, everyone take a shirt.”

Harry and Ron folded while Hermione and Heather organized his trunk better, pushing all his books to one side and leaving the other side for clothes and other materials. Heather lifted a lumpy hat and a Sneakoscope fell out, twirling fast and glowing bright with a high-pitched whistle.

“It’s broken,” Ron grumbled. “Did yours stop spinning?”

“When we got them, they weren’t glowing or moving at all. Not like that,” Heather stuffed it back in his magenta hat.

“They probably got tired on the journey,” Ron stuffed the rest of the shirts in the empty spaces making Hermione sigh and place her hands on her hips.

“Percy was probably right about them being a rip off.”

Ron shut his trunk, “No he wasn’t. The man said they really work.”

“Yes, of course he would Ron. He was trying to sell them to you.”

Heather stood up and dusted off her knees, “Well maybe its relative to Ron. Is there someone here you don’t trust?”

Ron put his hands on his hips too, “Yeah. Percy to not remind Mum and Dad about the car and your bloody orange beast to not eat Scabbers.”

Harry stepped between Hermione and Ron before Hermione could respond, “Have you seen that book Hagrid got us?”

“Crookshanks is just a cat. He did something any cat would do. If you keep Scabbers in your room I’ll keep Crookshanks in mine and then there won’t be a problem. Will there?”

“‘The Monster Book of Monsters’ I think it was called?”

“Sure, until it gets loose and sniffs Scabbers out.”

“How do you even read it?”

Percy came in and set his Head Boy pin on the nightstand, “Alright, get to bed everyone. We’ll be up early.”

Hermione scoffed at Ron and turned to Percy, “You’re right, Percy. It IS time for bed. Also, congratulations on being Head Boy.” She turned and marched out of the room.

Harry and Heather waved goodnight to Ron and exited the room.

“You couldn’t have helped me?” Harry grumbled to Heather.

She shrugged, “They both kinda have points.”

They went to Harry’s room and both got to work packing his trunk. It was easier to help Harry because he wasn’t so picky about where things were going, not like Ron.

Harry picked up his unglowing and untwirling Sneakoscope, “It was definitely a rip off. I don’t trust Fred and George not to pull a prank on one of us on the last night here.”

“If I wake up with color-changing goo in my hair I’ll hex them,” Heather laughed. “If I were Percy, I’d lock the door.”

“Do you think our family would have been like them?” Harry rolled the Sneakoscope on the floor in front of him.

Heather tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it wouldn’t go down. She stared at her hands for several minutes and stood up, kneeling on his trunk and shutting it tight. “Night, Harry. We’ll get to go home to Hogwarts tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and walked her to the door. “We’ll be home tomorrow.”

She watched him close the door slowly and quickly stopped it and hugged him, “You’re all the family I need so stop almost getting expelled.”

He smiled, nodded, and closed the door. She left to her own room, packed her things and fell onto her bed before remembering her nightly routine. She dropped to the floor and started doing her Quidditch exercises, barely reaching a fourth of what the book said and laid back down on the bed, exhausted.

“I WILL make it on the team.”

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	7. The Hogwarts Express

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

“YOU TOOK IT.”

“I DID NOT! YOU MISPLACED IT.”

“I DO NOT MISPLACE THINGS.”

Heather sat up and yawned, looking at the time. Ron and Percy’s angry yells had woken her up only a few minutes earlier than planned. She got up and took a shower and looked through her trunk for some nice-ish clothes for the train.

She only had two skirts, and only one that fit. She had been wearing hand-me-down shorts that matched Harry’s around Diagon Alley, but now that she would for sure see more people that knew her, she wanted to look nice. She hated realizing it, but she put in effort for the Slytherins, and especially Pansy. Her words were cutting deeper with every year.

She repacked her things and headed out, passing Ron and Percy’s room – they were still yelling at each other – to find Harry on the steps to the bar. He looked up at her and shushed her, motioning her forward to join him.

He held his finger up to his lips as she approached and she sat on the step next to him. She turned her ears towards Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s arguing voices.

“We have to tell them. They have a right to know – ”

“Terrified, Arthur. They’ll be terrified!”

“They should know just in case something happens.”

“What could happen? They’ll be happy in school. There’s no need to worry them with this.”

“And what if they decide to get mixed up in it? Just look at the past two years. If they had been told they wouldn’t have run away from their home. Sirius Black may be dangerous but I’m not sure about ‘mad’. He escaped Azkaban somehow, Molly. What’s a castle?”

“Don’t worry me, Arthur.”

“Well it’s the truth. And he was able to kill thirteen people with a single curse… He’s after the twins and we know he’ll be heading towards Hogwarts.”

“Dumbledore won’t let Sirius Black harm them. You’re forgetting that.”

“The man lost everything the night Harry defeated You-Know-Who and he’s been in there stewing on that for twelve years. He’ll try everything to hurt him or even both.”

Heather gulped and turned to Harry but he was waiting for the silence to end between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to hear more. Finally, Mrs. Weasley sighed, and Heather leaned in to listen.

“Alright. Tell them. But if it’s as you say and Dumbledore is allowing the Azkaban guards to patrol around the grounds then there isn’t anything to worry them about.”

They could tell it was the end of the argument, so they stood and tip toed back up the stairs. The only Weasleys awake were still only Percy and Ron. They walked past their room and headed into Heather’s to talk.

Harry closed the door behind him, “That’s why Fudge didn’t even get mad! He let me off free because he expected to find me dead that night.”

Heather pulled her hair over her eyes and shook her head, “Can we not just go one year without all YOUR enemies trying to kill you?”

“Well both of us probably this time,” Harry corrected.

She glared at him, “Not helpful. I guess that’s why the Weasley’s are being lent the cars too. Because of us.”

“D’you know what this means?” Harry gripped her elbow intensely. “We might not be able to go to Hogsmeade.”

“Oh, let go. That’s the least of our worries. Maybe we shouldn’t go if that maniac’s gonna be there.” She walked over to her trunk and pulled it out from under her bed. “Did you double check your room? Don’t leave anything behind.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand dismissively and left the room.

Twenty minutes later Mrs. Weasley could be heard banging on the other Weasley’s doors to get them up for breakfast. Heather headed downstairs and was soon accompanied by Hermione and Harry. The three sat down and nibbled on toast while laughing at Percy yelling at Ron still.

“I can’t believe they haven’t found it yet. I’ll find it in two seconds,” Hermione got up and stomped up the stairs.

Fred and George made their way down and took chairs closest to the stairs.

“She won’t find it,” Fred grinned.

“Why not? Scabbers probably just got to it or something.”

George shook his head at her, “We have it,” he muffled his laugh behind his hand.

Harry’s mouth fell open and laughed, “Why? He’s losing his head over it.”

“He can’t lose his head – ”

“It’s too big.” George took out the pin from his pocket and showed them.

Heather snorted, “‘Bighead Boy’? How mad did he get last time?”

Fred took the pin out of George’s hand, “Not how mad. That never matters.”

“It’s how LONG did he stay mad.”

“Not long at all.”

They smiled and got up from the table. They headed upstairs and Heather and Harry could hear them offer to help look. Seconds later Ron came down looking very upset.

“He’s lost his pin and thinks I’VE got it? For what?”

The morning went by as fast and chaotic as the last year. What should have taken a few minutes to get all the trunks down the stairs and in the cars was taking half an hour due to misplaced belongings and two instances where the trunks spit out all the contents on the stairs.

“Trunks to the left, animals to the right!” Mr. Weasley called out.

Hedwig was placed on top of Heather’s toad’s tank, which was next to a squeaking Scabbers trying to get farther from Crookshank’s paw that was coming out of his cage, which was bellow a screeching Hermes.

The second the ministry cars arrived Mr. Weasley and Percy started shoving things into the back while Ginny did her best to tell them how they should be shoved in. After two attempts, both cars were packed and ready to be boarded.

Heather and Harry were about to walk out onto the sidewalk when Mrs. Weasley stopped them and said Fred and George should head out first. Mr. Weasley walked them and Hermione and Ron to the last car and the four of them buckled up in the back while Mr. Weasley took the passenger side next to a Ministry driver.

They arrived at King’s Cross with twenty minutes to spare and even though all the other Weasleys could get out of their car and go, the four of them were told to stay put until Mr. Weasley got their stuff unloaded and on trolleys.

“Hermione, Ron, why don’t you take the lead. I’ll keep right behind you four,” Mr. Weasley smiled down at Heather and Harry.

Harry exchanged looks with Heather and they looked around the crowded station looking for anyone suspicious. They crossed the barrier and Mr. Weasley seemed more relaxed, but only slightly.

“Look,” Ginny pointed at Percy in the distance talking to Penelope.

He was pointing at his badge and showing it off for her while she held in giggles. Heather laughed at Ginny’s imitation of him. Sometimes Ginny acted a lot like Fred and George. Fred and George hopped onto the train first while Mrs. Weasley led Ginny away to find her a good spot.

Heather, Harry, Hermione, and Ron found an empty compartment and loaded their things in and headed back out to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She gave them all hugs and started handing out sandwiches she prepared for everyone.

“Er, Harry, Heather, join me for a second?” Mr. Weasley led them away to behind a pillar. “I need to tell you two something – it might frighten you and that’s alright but – ”

Harry interrupted him, “We overheard this morning. We know.”

Mr. Weasley pressed his lips together and nodded, “I’m sorry. If you two are afraid to – ”

“We aren’t.”

Heather didn’t want to speak up, but she did feel slightly scared. Not as scared to think Voldemort would try something again, but still worried about some maniac on the loose trying to kill Harry and her.

“Promise me you two won’t… Won’t try to find him.”

“What?” Heather looked at Harry, matching his confusion. “Why would we want to?”

Mr. Weasley looked beyond them towards the train but didn’t respond, as if he wasn’t sure about something. Mrs. Weasley called them back as the whistle blew. He led them back and waved goodbye as they got on.

Heather held Harry back, “We should tell Ron and Hermione. Right? What if we’re putting them in danger. They should know.”

Harry nodded and led the way to their chosen compartment. Heather slid open the door and they stood looking at the lump under the coat asleep, slumped on the window. Hermione and Ron – with a sleeping Scabbers in his hand already – shrugged.

Heather slid the door closed and took her seat next to Hermione and across from the stranger.

Harry looked wearily at the man and leaned towards Hermione and Ron, “We need to tell you something…”

Heather let him tell the whole thing to them with no interruptions. She was convinced, seeing how he went through it, that he indeed had no intention to find Sirius Black. She wasn’t sure why Mr. Weasley thought they would…

“Why would Dad think you guys would want to find him?”

Heather finally spoke up, “We don’t know. And it looked like he was holding something back.”

“Did it?” Harry arched his brow.

“Harry PLEASE don’t take an interest in this – ”

“I’m agreeing with Heather, Harry. You weren’t even supposed to know all this.”

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back, “I’m not. Calm down.”

“Some nutter who broke out of Azkaban want to kill you guys? Why can’t we have a normal year!” Ron stood up and motioned for Heather and Hermione to move over. “I need fresh air. Or water”

Heather stood up and switched spots, making sure not to nudge the sleeping man. “I’ll buy you some water when the trolley witch comes by… You guys seem a lot more worried than I’d thought.”

“Yeah. I’ve fought Vol – sorry – On my own twice now so why’s everyone so afraid of Sirius Black? Even when we’ll be at school with Dumbledore.”

Hermione drummed her fingers on her knees, “Heather… Harry… Did you get your permission slips signed?”

“No. Harry ruined the plan. I was going to do the handwriting spell but I didn’t get the chance.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Well you were there for a week. You could’ve then.”

Heather nodded slowly, “Right. But I couldn’t… I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best.”

Everyone looked at Hermione like she was crazy.

Ron scoffed, “How’s that good? They won’t be able to visit Honeydukes.”

It was Ron’s turn for everyone to look at him.

“Honeydukes? Honeydukes! The only reason to go to Hogsmeade! It’s a sweetshop that has EVERYTHING. They have Chocoballs, Pepper Imps, Sugar Quills – ”

“Funny, I don’t even remember it mentioned in ‘Sites of Importance and Historical Sorcery’. The book talks all about Hogsmeade like how the headquarters for the Goblin rebellion of sixteen-twelve was in the Inn and – ”

“Who cares about all that?”

Hermione huffed and turned back to Harry and Hermione, “Well what I’m saying is Dumbledore won’t be there – I don’t think – and so it would be very dangerous for you guys if you leave Hogwarts.”

Heather bit her lip, hearing what Hermione was saying but… At the same time wanting to go very badly. Harry was obviously unsure of her stance, going between avoiding her eyes and trying to communicate telepathically if she was game for sneaking out. She couldn’t make up her mind and avoided his eyes instead, despite being against going earlier.

“Heather agrees with me Harry so stop giving her those looks.” Hermione bent down and pulled Crookshank’s cage out from under them and unlocked his door.

“No!” Ron instinctively covered the wiggly lump in his shirt pocket.

Crookshanks attempted to jump on Ron’s legs but he pushed him back. He hissed and jumped onto the spot next to Harry and the sleeping man, crossing his front paws and staring at Ron with angry eyes.

For several hours they remained quiet and thinking about their own stuff, mostly. Heather wondered about Hogsmeade and Sirius Black. Would it be worth it to sneak out? She knew the answer already. No, it wouldn’t. Hermione was right they should stay inside, at least until Sirius was caught by the Azkaban Guards. But it was hard to not want to go when Ron was going on about how great it was.

After lunch the trolley witch came by and like every year, Harry bought as much as he could from the cart to share with them.

“Should we wake… whoever he is?” Ron helped Harry pile his snacks.

Hermione pointed up to the luggage above them, “R. J. Lupin. Probably our new Defense professor.”

The witch handed them a bag of cauldron cakes and smiled, “If he’s hungry I’ll be in the front. Take those just in case.”

Heather closed the door shut and handed the bag around, eager to enjoy a free pastry, “What do you think happened to Lockhart anyways? Hermione, you must know.”

Hermione’s face flushed as she bit into a pastry making Ron scowl. She shrugged, “I don’t actually. But he hasn’t released any new books like he does every year so… I guess all that talk about knowing where the Chamber was really was nonsense.”

Ron scoffed, “Oh was it.”

They sat and enjoyed the cakes, watching the rain droplets chase each other down the window until the compartment doors flew open, making them all jump. Draco was standing at the door with Crabbe and Goyle planted behind him with their arms crossed. Heather’s heart started racing and she felt like fainting or turning into a pricked balloon and escaping out the window.

“Potter,” Draco looked like he was chewing on an earwax flavor bean, almost spitting out their name towards Harry. “Who’s that? Got yourself a bodyguard? Too scared to take me on yourself?”

“It’s our new Defense professor, Malfoy. Professor Lupin,” Hermione crossed her arms.

Ron smiled and jerked his thumb at Professor Lupin, “Want us to wake him up for you?”

Draco clenched his jaw and shook his head. He looked down at Heather and she thought she would really faint if he mentioned anything. He had been the one to tell her not to say anything, but what if he did? What if he decided it would be more fun to try to anger Harry? How would they react? A whole week with MALFOY. At his HOUSE.

“The Slytherin section’s back there. Since you obviously didn’t know.”

Heather nodded, “Thanks for telling me.”

“She’ll make sure to avoid it,” Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco.

Draco was about to open his mouth and glanced up at the sleeping professor. He shut his mouth, thinking better of it, and pushed passed Crabbe and Goyle.

Heather quickly closed the car door, feeling her lungs fully expand again, her breathing now back to normal. Should she tell him not to say anything again? Just to remind him. What if he mentions it specifically because she asked him not to? But if she didn’t then he might mention it if he forgets they aren’t supposed to tell anyone –

“This year we shouldn’t let him get away with anything. I’m done being nice,” Ron bit into another cake angrily. “I’ll really hit him this time.”

“Shhh,” Hermione pointed at Professor Lupin and stared at Ron. “Shh.”

The train started to slow and they all looked at each other.

“Why are we slowing? We can’t be anywhere close to Hogwarts… It’s not even three yet.

“Shortcut?” Harry said hopefully.

Heather stood up to join Ron at the window, “No. We’re like halfway there.”

“See that?” Ron tapped the window. “What is that?”

Heather squinted as a raindrop slid down the glass and a black smudge entered the train up ahead. She looked down at Ron, concerned he didn’t even know what floating creature could be entering the train.

“We’ve stopped completely,” Harry pulled Heather back to her seat. “What did you see?”

“I’m not sure.”

The windows started fogging and their breaths came out in white clouds as the temperature dropped. The lights flickered off and they were cast in darkness except for the light coming through the window from the grey sky outside.

“Ow, Ron! You sat on my hand!”

“Sorry. My eyes are adjusting.”

The compartment door slid open suddenly and they all jumped. Neville was squinting at them and stepped in, closing the door behind him.

“Did you hear what they’re saying?” He tried sitting down next to Harry, “OW. What?”

Crookshanks jumped down and crawled into his cage under Hermione’s seat.

Hermione closed the latch, “What are they saying?”

“We’ve broken down. I think.”

“I’ll just go ask the driver,” Hermione opened the door and stepped out, immediately yelping.

“Sorry!” Ginny pushed Hermione back in and closed the door. “It’s spooky outside. All the lights are out.”

“Sit down, children,” a raspy voice quieted them down. Professor Lupin had sat up and coughed lightly to clear his throat. “I’m sure it’s only momentary.”

Ginny went to sit next to Ron by the window and Hermione sat back down in her spot.

“Lumos,” Professor Lupin held his wand out for extra light. “I’ll be the one to ask the driver.”

He stood up and froze as the compartment door rattled open slowly, and a hooded figure as tall as the height of the train – its head touching the ceiling – stuck its head in. Its face was covered by a wispy black cloak that covered its whole body but it’s long grey fingers. Heather’s eyes trailed down the cloak’s length and saw it was floating in the air, hovering.

Professor Lupin stumbled back as the creature made a low sucking noise, as if trying to breath in all the air from their compartment into its lungs. Heather’s hands shot up to rub her freezing arms and felt memories from years ago floating to the surface of her brain.

She stared up at the dark figure and batted her eyes trying to keep her memory down but couldn’t. She saw Dudley’s face looking up at her, angry and upset that she had pinned him down. She blinked and tried to forget, to focus on the dark figure as everything was silent, but the scene continued. Her own tears fell onto Dudley’s face and she saw her hand come down on him. She kept punching and punching until a loud wail erupted from his mouth. She blinked more and turned her head away, seeing Harry’s blurry body falling back on his seat. She remembered more. Dudley was crying, real tears flowing from his shut eyes. She was hurting him like he had hurt her, but she wasn’t enjoying it. She felt guilty. Guilty and scared.

A bright light blinded her and pushed her memory back down into the depths of her mind and she no longer felt horrifyingly guilty about how she had behaved. She blinked and this time everything came into focus. She looked down and saw Harry sliding off the seat and onto the floor like a floppy doll. Professor Lupin closed the door and sat back, gasping.

“Harry!” She dropped to her knees and helped him sit on the floor.

Hermione was down at their level shaking his shoulders, “Harry, are you alright?”

Ron tapped Harry’s cheeks until his eyes opened and he sat up straight.

“What happened?” he mumbled.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	8. Back at Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizing in advance for any extra spelling or grammar errors than normal! I didn’t have as much time with this chapter as usual because I am in the process of moving and its very hectic right now XD Thanks for reading tho! :D

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

“What happened? You feinted and scared us all to death is what happened!” Ron shook his head and sat back down.

“Are you alright?” Hermione helped Harry back up to his seat.

Heather sat back and watched him piece together what had just gone down.

“Did you hear that woman screaming?” He looked around as if there was an extra person hidden somewhere on the compartment.

“You heard screaming? None of us heard it,” Heather looked at Ron and Hermione worried. They were all thinking the same thing. “Was it another snake? Was it that thing?”

Harry shook his head, “No. No it was a woman.”

There was a snap and a surprised squeal from Neville. Everyone turned towards Professor Lupin who was offering up pieces of stale chocolate.

“Here, everyone. Take some,” Professor Lupin handed out all the chunks of a chocolate bar and sat back down.

“What was that thing?” Neville pointed a shaking chocolate smudged finger at the door.

“A dementor. Or as I’m sure you’re more familiar with… an ‘Azkaban Guard’.”

They all stared at him hoping he’d go on, but he simply put away the leftover chocolate and stood, making his way out the compartment door.

“I’ll go speak with the driver. Everything’s fine now.”

Heather stuck her hand on Harry’s forehead, “You’re really ok? Do you want my piece?”

Harry shook her hand off him and looked around at everyone once more, “No one heard the scream? What happened then?”

“It was horrible!” Neville scooted as far back from the door as possible. “It stuck it’s head in and… and…”

“Everything went cold and I remembered when that spider seized me up around my waist… It was weird,” Ron shivered. “I’d forgotten what happiness felt like.”

Hermione nodded and put her arm over Ginny who was still sobbing into her sweater sleeves.

Harry looked at Heather, “Did you fall off your seat too?”

“No, but I remembered some stuff I thought I’d forgotten.” She looked down at her hands and rolled them into fists, squeezing tight and let go. “It looked at you and you were closest… so I’m sure that’s it. That must be why it affected you so bad.”

The compartment door opened and they all jumped. Professor Lupin was back with a smile.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. Better get your robes on.”

The train stopped at Hogsmeade station and every student hurried to get off, excited for a new year. Nothing seemed too different, not at first glance. There was the usual horde of older years, the bossy voices of Prefects and Head students cutting through eager chatter, and Hagrid who still stood as tall as the carriages trying to herd all the first years to the boats. What was different this year, was the cold and rainy atmosphere instead of the usual somewhat warm and sunny one.

Hagrid noticed them as they walked towards the carriages and waved. They waved back and spotted an empty carriage and made their way inside. Heather pressed herself to the window and watched as the castle grew and grew as they got closer. Her excitement was seeping from her body and all she wanted to do was jump out and run the rest of the way there. The carriage stopped and she jumped out, pulling Harry off faster. They helped push the crowd to move faster, wanting to get to the feast as soon as possible.

“Heard you feinted, Potter!” Draco’s voice hushed the crowd of students pushing up the stairs.

Everyone stopped and looked down, up, and to the side for Harry and Heather. She was about to respond with ‘I didn’t feint’ but thought better of it. She didn’t want to throw Harry under the bus, at least not when he couldn’t help his reaction to the horrible creature.

“Weasley, did you feint too? I can imagine it now, a pile of rags crumpled to the floor under a scawy dementor!” Draco hopped up the steps to level with Harry. “Which one of you looked more stupid?”

Heather frowned and put her hand up to stop Ron, “No one feinted, Malfoy.”

Draco turned on his heels and pointed at Neville, “Calling Longbottom a liar then?”

Neville made himself as small as possible behind two Gryffindor boys, “Sorry, Harry! I was telling Dean…”

“Why don’t you shove off!” Ron pushed passed Heather and Hermione.

“Or what.”

He looked at Harry, who nodded. “Or we’ll make you.”

“That won’t be necessary, will it?” Professor Lupin came up the steps behind them and put his hands on Ron and Harry’s shoulders. He stared down at Draco with a grin.

Draco looked him up and down, taking in the little tears and undone seams at the edges of Professor Lupin’s teaching robes and chuckled. “Of course not, Professor.” He turned around and headed up the steps followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

“Everyone keep heading up, now,” Professor Lupin smiled down at the four of them and led everyone into the castle.

They made their way into the Great Hall and split up, taking their seats in their respective houses. Heather sat across from Pansy and rolled her eyes at her annoying smirk. Draco crossed his arms and stared at the podium looking bored out of his mind. There were decorations everywhere with hundreds of candles hovering above them and their house banners swaying gently over their heads. The golden plates and cups were spotless and everyone wore sparkling smiles.

After everyone was settled, Professor McGonagall marched dozens of scared looking first years up towards the stage to begin the sorting ceremony. She unrolled her parchment and picked up the sorting hat, calling the first years up one by one. Each house applauded for their new members, even Draco added to the cheers for new Slytherins.

“Can’t we hurry this up? Why can’t they arrive early or something for this,” Draco dropped his head on his arms over the table.

“I agree. They should take a different train. Or get sorted over the summer!”

Heather rolled her eyes at Pansy’s annoying neediness. Draco didn’t even reply to her and she was smiling like he’d just given her a compliment.

“Are there ever any students here during the summer?” Heather didn’t think they’d know, being pruebloods and having no need or interest in staying in school, but it was worth an ask.

“Oh, poor Heather. Can’t stand those muggles anymore? Why don’t you just stay with your other family? Or.. oh, woops. Sorry,” Pansy pushed her lower lip out in a pout.

“You’re forgiven, Pansy. I know remembering things can sometimes be hard for you,” Heather quickly turned up towards the High Table for fear Pansy’s gaping mouth would make her burst out into a laughing fit.

“Merlin. It’s finally over,” Draco sat back up. “Now this old toad has to make a speech.”

Professor Dumbledore stood up at the podium and smiled at every house, lingered on Gryffindors, and more specifically Harry. He smiled at everyone and started his usual beginning of term speech. “Welcome everyone!” He paused for the applause to end. “It is a new year at Hogwarts, and so I have some new things to say. The most serious of them being, the dementors of Azkaban.”

Heather looked over at Harry, who eyed her back.

“They have been placed here by the Ministry of Magic… to guard the school.” Professor Dumbledore sounded annoyed and tapped his fingers on the podium. “Because of their presence, I will be asking everyone not to leave the school without permission. There is no fooling dementors. Not with disguises or even any invisibility cloak.”

Heather stared at Harry until he looked away at Ron, who was also being stared at by Hermione. Heather’s heart started beating faster and her palms got sweaty. If the dementors were so dangerous, why was the ministry placing them at school? What if Harry DID try to leave school with an invisibility cloak? She looked over at Draco and then at Marcus far down the table. They were laughing at almost all of the warning. Maybe she should have stayed to get the permission slips signed somehow. So that Harry wouldn’t even be tempted to try anything. She tuned back into Professor Dumbledore’s speech.

“They only know how to be predators and how to identify prey. So please, do not give them any reason to want to hurt or harm any of you. Prefects and Head Boys and Girls, I am putting my faith in you to enforce these rules. For the safety of others.” He looked around at all the prefects and Head students.

Heather heard quiet snorts and scoffs from the Slytherin table and saw a few students with badges rolling their eyes.

Draco chuckled and leaned towards her, “Wouldn’t want anyone feinting, oh no. How embarrassing it would be.”

“Please welcome Professor Lupin, our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher” Professor Dumbledore motioned for him. “And Professor Hagrid, our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher.”

Heather clapped under the table where no one could see. Only a few other students clapped, mostly those who knew Hagrid and then those in the same compartment as Professor Lupin on the train. Again, Heather felt she had to hide her enthusiasm, hardly anyone from her table even looked amused in the slightest. All of the Gryffindor table was clapping though, and the hall was so loud she was sure the other tables must be clapping as well.

Heather looked up at Professor Lupin and Hagrid standing awkwardly and nodding at the applause. Professor Lupin didn’t look like the normal teachers. His robes looked second hand, with tatters and patches just barely noticeable. Either he didn’t care how he looked – except the way he looked awkwardly around and fidgeted with where to place his hands told her otherwise – or he couldn’t afford to purchase new teaching robes. He sat back down quickly and shook Professor McGonagall’s hand to his right, turned to his left where Professor Snape sat looking away, and quickly turned back to Professor McGonagall again.

“See that? Professor Snape won’t even look at him. I bet he’s just as worthless as the last one,” Draco turned to the food that had just appeared before them.

Pansy nodded, “Maybe it’s because he applied again for the position and was refused it!”

Heather pulled a chicken leg off the large plate and plopped some steamed vegetables on her own. “Maybe it’s harder to find a good potions teacher?”

“So typical of Dumbledore to value POTIONS over DARK ARTS,” Draco ripped some meat off the chicken bone.

Pansy ran her tongue over her teeth behind closed lips and nodded, cutting her bone out with a fork and knife. “I was just about to say that.”

Heather laughed, “No you weren’t.”

Pansy’s head shot up, “Of course I was, Potter! You think just because you’re a stupid Potter you’re a genius or something?”

Crabe banged his goblet down, “They physically can’t be. Duh.”

Goyle nodded and Draco and Pansy snickered to themselves. Heather stared down at her food, stabbing it calmly, trying to pretend she didn’t know what he meant. Does Draco think she can’t beat him at potions because she’s not a pureblood like him? She’s only ever heard him make fun of muggleborns… but there was absolutely no reason he wouldn’t think less of her too. She imagined his face on the tiny carrot pieces she was stabbing and breathed out. She needed him for Quidditch. If anyone could help convince Marcus again it’d be him – at least until her muscles set in. A darker part of her mind wanted to try out for Seeker, just to see Draco crying with fury, but she could feel how horrible of an idea that was all throughout her current bruise-less body.

The rest of the feast Heather kept her eyes down and ate, even during dessert. She soon heard people getting up to leave and waited in her seat until most of the Slytherins had gone. As soon as the Quidditch team, the older students, and Draco, his goons, and Pansy had left she got up and sat in front of Harry and Ron and between Neville and Hermione.

“I hope you heard that one specific part,” Heather eyed Harry menacingly.

“What part? I was too busy thinking about getting expelled,” Harry laughed and avoided a well-deserved slap on the wrist from both Heather and Hermione.

“Oh look! Most everyone’s gone!” Ron got up and led them to the High Table.

“Hagrid congratulations!” Hermione jumped up and down.

Hagrid looked down shyly, “Now now, I’m sure yeh won’t be saying that after I start teachin’.”

Professor Sprout tisked at him, “You’ll do fine Hagrid! Don’t you worry! It’s just the new teacher jeebees. Believe me.”

“You’ll do great,” Harry gave him a thumbs up.

“I always… I always…” Hagrid blew his nose with a napkin and dabbed at the small tears forming in his large eyes. “Always wanted tuh teach.”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat next to them, “Mr. Potter, Mrs. Granger. If you would please follow me back to my office.” She got up from her chair and started walking around the table.

“What did you do now!” Heather pinched Harry.

“Ow! I haven’t done anything!”

“Well I certainly haven’t.” Hermione waited for Professor McGonagall to walk around the table.

“On your way, please.” Professor McGonagall started walking towards the large wood doors.

Ron and Heather watched them leave with arms crossed.

“Why them?”

“They’re not in trouble… I don’t think Hermione would ever be stupid enough to get caught doing anything,” Ron tapped his chin thoughtfully.

Professor Sprout cleared her throat, having heard the part about Hermione not getting caught. “I’m sure she wouldn’t do anything worth getting in trouble over. Regardless if she got caught or not…”

Hagrid laughed, almost spitting out his wine.

“Do the ‘creatures’ count as animals?” Heather thought she should change the subject with anything. She didn’t get why she always heard the word ‘beast’ and ‘creature’ when it came to large snakes and color-changing foxes and toads and other animals like that.

“Merlin, you’re as bad as Hermione.” Ron took her arm and led her away from the table.

She pulled her arm back and punched his arm, running away before he could exclaim anything. She ran towards Professor McGonagall’s office, Ron following close behind, and spotted Harry walking out.

“What was that about?”

He shook his head, his cheeks were going red. “Nothing.”

Ron huffed next to Heather, punched her arm back, and stood straight. “What d’you mean ‘nothing’?”

Hermione came out, smiling. “And you’re sure you’re ok? Madam Pomfrey said it was perfectly normal to still feel some effects after – ”

“I’m fine!”

Heather couldn’t help laughing with Ron. It was both impressive and disgusting how quick news spread around the school to the point even teachers had heard about the dementor mishap. She felt guilty about being glad it hadn’t been her that feinted. Maybe the fear of feinting again would do a good enough job at keeping Harry put in school.

“We should go before the Prefects enter the common rooms.” Hermione started up the stairs.

“I should go too.” Heather waved goodbye and headed down.

She was on the last few stairs when she saw the tall Slytherin Prefect girl waiting by the corner of the Slytherin passageway and locked eyes with her. She gave a smile and walked deeper in. Heather’s anxiety rose like a busted fire hydrant and ran to the common room door just in time to watch her close the door with a single nasally ‘HA’.

Heather groaned and banged on the door several times. She figured she’d still receive some hate for Slytherin losing the house cup for the first time in almost a decade because of Harry. Why couldn’t they understand she was just as devastated about it as them! She banged harder and gasped when her fist didn’t meet the door like always. Pansy stood at the entrance and looked her up and down.

“Heather! Don’t you know you’re supposed to be here in time for the password?” She shrugged and stepped aside, “You’ll have to ask Professor Snape for it tomorrow.”

Heather stepped through with her arms crossed. She smiled, “Oh, no need.” She spotted Draco quickly and ran over, slowing down just in time to appear calm and collected by his side. She looked over her shoulder at Pansy who slammed the door and stared her down. She turned to Draco and dropped the act. “What’s the password? I wasn’t here for it.”

He scratched his head, “Poison Pines.”

“Thanks.” Heather headed into the girls’ dormitories and into the room with her, Pansy’s, and the two other girls from last year and the year before’s names on the door written with some type of permanent chalk.

She smiled at Toad sleeping peacefully in his cage, curled under his little overgrown moss. She ran to her trunk and took out her new potions guide, new herbology guide, and the sketchbook from last year and stuffed them under her pillow before anyone else walked in the room. She jumped on the bed, pulled the emerald curtains shut, and took out her sketchbook. She opened it up to the last page where she had written down her goals.

She circled the words ‘Dark Arts’ and triple underlined them like she had potions and herbology. “Hopefully this year Defense isn’t a total waste of time… and I guess it wouldn’t matter if Hermione is better at the other subjects.” She didn’t like hearing those words coming out of her own mouth. She wanted to be the best at everything, but this stuff was good enough… hopefully. She’d be able to rub it in Draco’s face and she could at least handle being tied for smartest with Hermione.

She went to change into her pjs in the bathroom and came back to see Pansy sitting up on her bed with her hands folded. Heather crawled into her own bed and waited for her to speak, knowing it had something to do with her.

“You know, I think maybe I’ll ask Draco to include me in his potion’s lessons with Professor Snape.”

Heather’s annoyed smirk dropped. Pansy smiled and laid down, pulling the sheets up and snuggled in. Heather gripped her sheets and threw them over her, crossing her arms over her chest and rolled away from Pansy. She couldn’t tell if Pansy was just saying that to annoy her and regardless if Pansy just confirmed the potions lessons were real, it bothered Heather to a new extreme. She could handle Draco boasting about being top of the class… but if Pansy did it too…

Heather shook her head refusing to think on it more. She was about to close her eyes when she remembered her workouts. She carefully slipped out of bed onto the floor and quietly did the barrel pushes and a few forward pulls before sliding back into bed and forcing herself to sleep, thinking only of what the next day would bring.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	9. Tea and Omens

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather woke with a start, realizing it was officially the first day of classes. She quickly ran to the bathrooms, took a bath, brushed out her hair for once, and brushed her teeth all before anyone she knew was actually up. She exited just in time for Pansy to wake up and walked out into the common book with her bag, successfully avoiding her entirely.

She was heading to the door when she spotted Marcus talking to two Slytherin boys she didn’t recognize. She spotted an open seat close to Marcus and sat down, taking out her new potions guide to pretend to look through.

“– Right. That shouldn’t be a problem. They’re usually the first to hold them. I doubt the Gryffindor captain will hold any this year since no one’s left, so I’ll see soon enough. Probably after the Hufflepuffs hold theirs.”

“Can’t wait.”

The three boys passed by and Heather’s mouth fell open. It was Graham Montague and Cassius Warrington who were talking to Marcus. She was pretty sure they were fifth years now, and they were huge. They must have been working out all summer long. She was puny compared to them and probably had better chances at becoming the next Seeker than being a Chaser again.

Draco walked out of the boys’ dormitories, so she quickly put her guide away and caught up to him just as he exited the door with his friends.

“Draco! I think Graham and Cassius are going to try out for chasers this year,” she walked beside him waiting for him to say anything, but he just shrugged. “What, you won’t help me?”

“Potter, just face it. You can’t beat any of them. You should be glad, actually. We’ll have better chances at winning this year,” he laughed and walked on with his friends.

“Fine. I don’t need your help.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed over to Gryffindor tower.

After a few minutes of waiting by the portrait hole, Hermione, Harry, and Ron came out and they walked down to the great hall for breakfast. There were less spots open but Heather managed to squeeze into the Gryffindor table like always.

“Oh man,” Ron put several muffins on his plate and started picking at all of them. “I hope our schedules aren’t awful this year.”

Heather giggled, “They weren’t bad last year. You and Harry just need to do your assignments not last minute.”

Hermione nodded and covered her mouth, “I agree. This year we’ll make sure you two – ”

“Hey, Potter!”

They turned towards the Slytherin table.

“Don’t forget a pillow in case you feint again!”

Draco laughed at his friend’s joke and pretended to feint onto Crabbe.

Pansy stood up. “Oooooo! Careful! The dementors are out to get you, Potter!”

Hermione knocked on the table, turning their attention back to her. “Ignore them. They aren’t funny.”

“I don’t know how you can stand to be a Slytherin,” Ron glared down at his half-eaten muffins.

“Slytherin isn’t the problem. It’s just stupid Pansy and Malfoy.”

Harry put his hands up, “We all know that. They’re trying to make us mad. We can’t let them make us mad.”

Hermione smiled, “Precisely. Oh! Here come our schedules!”

Professor McGonagall went by handing them out to her Gryffindors and walked back to the High Table. Professor Snape was much slower with his, and she had to stand up to go get hers. She cleared her throat behind him and caught the paper as he dropped it over his shoulder.

“Were the Weasleys out of flying cars this year?” Professor Snape looked over his shoulder at her, glaring.

She held her head up higher and mumbled a thank you before returning to her seat to unfold the schedule. She looked over her shoulder again and sighed, “I’m never going to beat Malfoy.”

Ron laughed, “You should just face the fact that no one can kiss Snape’s shoes better than Malfoy, and focus on other classes like Harry and me.”

“And what classes are you two focusing on?” Hermione laughed.

Harry unfolded his schedule, “Magical Creatures looks promising…”

Ron shook his head, “Fred and George tell me Divination is the class we’ll like. They said it’s the easiest class – ”

“Hogwarts classes aren’t EASY. I bet Divination is going to be challenging and very informative.”

They all ignored Hermione’s intense optimism for classes. Heather unfolded her own schedule and was very happy to find all their classes lined up. She bit her lip and reached for Hermione’s, looking at all the classes listed one after the other. “How many classes are you taking?”

She pulled it back before Heather could look too closely at it, “All of them. They all looked so interesting I couldn’t pick and…”

Ron snatched the schedule from her, “You’re sounding like Percy when he – hey! Some of these you can’t even go to – ”

Hermione pulled it away again and stuffed it in her bag. “Will you two stop worrying about my classes? I talked to Professor McGonagall and she approved all of these.”

Heather and Ron looked at each other but left Hermione alone the rest of breakfast. What did she care if Hermione’s schedule was all messed up? If anything, Hermione would be putting less time in herbology and potions which would mean less competition.

They had to venture into a part of the castle they hadn’t yet seen or been in before. They went through corridor after corridor trying to ask portraits for directions and it was a suit of armor that finally pointed them the right way.

They found the north tower stairs and started their climb all the way to the very top. It would have been much faster if there were only one set of spiral stairs, but there were at least four. One of them led half way up and then took them back down, the other one started on a different second floor corridor and led to a third one that only went to the other side of the very same tower. The fourth one had steps that retreated into the wall, so they had to quickly descend to the landing at the halfway point.

“Who built this castle!” Ron sat on the landing and huffed hot air out, trying to cool down.

“We should just ask for directions,” Harry pushed everyone back down the steps.

They stepped off at the third floor and looked for a painting. Heather spotted one and called everyone back. A tiny knight on a horse rode passed yelling and screaming half-intimidating things until he calmed down after getting flung of his horse.

“Err… how do we get to the top of the north tower?” Harry pointed up as if to let the knight know he knew the direction they should be heading was ‘up’.

The little knight rubbed his metal gloves together and nodded, “Indeed! Follow! Lost children, follow me!” He hopped back on his horse and ran to the left and disappeared.

They stood around until they realized they could follow the sound of clanking metal and bolted after what they assumed to be him. There were a few paintings where they could spot him momentarily, glad to see it was still him they were chasing. They ran across the corridor to the fourth floor and to a new set of spiral stairs in a much more contained and compact chamber that looked to lead all the way up.

“Our quest is now complete! Good day! And should you need Sir Cadogan…” he rode off, his voice trailing quietly behind him.

They took a break at the base of the stairs until more third years sounded around the corner and before they got stuck in a giant crowd on the tight stairs, they started the climb for the fifth time. They rested against the white painted stone walls of the landing and looked around as more students made it.

Heather looked over some heads and spotted Neville looking confused and disoriented. “Neville!” she waved at him, “Here!”

He made his way, looking relieved to find them. “I thought I was going to be late. My shoelace got stuck on a stair when it pulled in. You’d think there were six north towers…”

Ron pat his shoulder, still unable to say anything until his breathing regulated.

Harry looked at the time on his watch, “Class is soon but… where’s the door? Is it going to reveal itself when the clock chimes or – ”

A shabby brown door above their heads opened inwards and a shiny silver ladder fell onto the floor with a thud right behind Neville. He jumped back and looked up.

“Well go on…” Hermione pushed him up.

One by one they climbed and stepped into what looked like a circular attic with tiny windows all over the wall like picture frames, letting in odd colors of light. There were circular tea tables everywhere with two chairs per table and a circular base in the middle that reflected as clearly as any mirror. The windows all closed suddenly and lamps turned on, glowing dimly behind sheer red scarves.

They squinted and made their way into their seats next to one another. Ron and Harry in one, and Heather and Hermione in the other. Everyone waited for something else to happen but for a long minute nothing did, except mist seamed to be coming up from creaking floorboards.

“Class! Welcome!” a woman’s voice boomed loudly.

“Where is she?” Ron looked around and almost jumped out of his seat when one of the colored curtains moved and revealed their teacher.

She waved her arms as the curtains slid off her on her way to the center of the circular room. She adjusted her glasses and folded her hands in front of her, smiling widely at everyone. Her glasses were huge on her head and very think and round. She looked like an owl that had been dropped in expired glitter and vintage streamers.

“So, we physically meet,” she looked every student in the eyes. “Let’s sit and let our spirits converse!” Being the only one standing, she sat down on her small cushioned reading chair and drank some tea off her table. She moved her beady necklaces around to jungle and closed her eyes, breathing in some of the mist.

“Hmm,” Hermione tilted her head at the teacher.

“Hmm?” Heather wanted to ask what on earth that meant. Hermione was frowning and had her arms crossed in front of her.

“I am Professor Trelawney and I will be teaching you the very serious art of Divination.” She took out the divination textbook as if to talk about it but set it back down. “I must warn you all. Before we get into this class, you must know just how serious and difficult this art is. In fact, I would say the most difficult.” She pushed up her glasses again. “Some of you,” she looked at several students, “will have the necessary ability like me. Some of you… have the Sight. So, no matter how hard you study… many of you will not be able to venture into the field of divination ever.”

Ron and Harry looked up at them and raised their brows. Heather and Hermione stuck their tongues out and told them to turn around and pay attention. Heather couldn’t believe it was day one and she might already be doing worse than others just because she’s used to studying things hard. How could the textbook not be enough?

Professor Trelawney stood up and looked around. “Let’s allow for your physical beings to meet your partners for the class, although spiritually I’m sure we have all met. Go on.”

Heather turned around to Hermione. “Hello, this is my physical being talking.”

Hermione crossed her arms again, unamused. “What did she mean about the studying bit? Why would she make us buy a textbook that wouldn’t help?”

She shrugged, “Maybe it’s just required? Like for potions?”

“Oh my,” Professor Trelawney approached Neville. “Your grandmother is looking quite ill.”

Neville shrunk back in his seat, “She was fine yesterday…”

“I’d check on her.” She tapped her chin and pressed her lips staring at Neville. She turned her attention away, continuing with class. “This term we will be covering many things… Beginning with Tea leaf reading, which will likely be very difficult for many students – ” She turned to a Gryffindor girl near the front and bent down close to her table. “You should beware a red-haired man, dear.”

The Gryffindor girl turned to look at Ron with the rest of the class.

Ron’s ears went red. He frowned. “Technically my hair’s orange.”

Harry’s tried muffling his laugh, “But in certain lights…”

Ron gave him a mean look as Professor Trelawney took the center of the room again and everyone but the very concerned Gryffindor girl turned their attention back.

“The next term we will be looking at crystal balls. Palmistry will be a very interesting subject. And I hope to finish fire omens – they’re very, very insightful – but with the flu everyone will be dealing with in February who’s to say. Of course, I’ll lose my voice which will be another interruption and some time around Easter someone here will leave us forever.”

Heather looked around at everyone else who, too, were scanning the room for any hints of who that might be. She looked at Neville and he shook his head, but she wasn’t so sure. Last year Professor Snape said they’d be brewing more explosive potions this year and she doubted he’d have suddenly gotten less clumsy over the summer.

“Now, we should get ready. You dear,” she pointed at a different Gryffindor girl, “Please pass me that silver teapot just behind you.”

The girl looked relieved and stood to grab it, handing it carefully as if coming into contact might trigger a prediction. Unfortunately for her, it looked like Professor Trelawney already had a prediction ready for her.

“I see that you’re dreading something. Well I’m so very sorry to say but on Friday the sixteenth of October, it will happen.” She smiled and took the tea pot down to her table by the fireplace and cushioned chair, sitting and sliding her teacup nearer. “Now, there are teacups on that shelf so please everyone collect one and come down to the teapot to fill it.”

Heather stood up with Hermione and followed Harry and Ron up to the teacup shelf with everyone else.

“Can you believe anything she’s saying?” Ron whispered, looking back at Professor Trelawney who was staring down at her teacup, swirling her tea. “Now everyone’s going to hate me and my hair isn’t even actually red!”

Heather put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Very unfortunate prediction.”

“You looked at me when she said someone would leave forever,” Neville leaned into them.

Heather sighed, “Just be careful this year with your ingredient labeling, ok?”

The line was moving fast and they managed to all get their teacups, fill them from the floating teapot by Professor Trelawney, and return to their seats.

Harry leaned back and whispered to Heather, “What if it has to do with Black.”

“What?” Heather groaned and shook her head violently. “Harry don’t start now. If we stay in the castle how could we get hurt?”

He shrugged and turned back as Professor Trelawney as she stood and continued on about how to properly prepare the leaves. Heather drank until the leaves were lightly coated in tea and swirled it around three times with her left hand like she had instructed. Everyone placed their teacup upside down on the saucer and waited a few minutes for more liquid to drain down.

“Please switch with your table partner and interpret the patterns. Page five of the textbook will be helpful for this if you do not yet have the Sight. Oh and,” she turned to look at Neville again, “make sure to grab a blue teacup after you’ve broken that one. Thank you.”

Neville nodded and reached over to give his cup to his table partner but it slipped out of his hands and toppled to the floor, breaking into several sharp pieces. The class started laughing, and Heather did her best to hold it in for him out of support which Harry and Ron couldn’t manage to do even when Hermione give them very stern looks. Neville stood to get his second teacup and start all over.

Heather swapped cups with Hermione and laughed, “What if it tells me something really embarrassing? Should I pretend not to have noticed?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “It won’t tell you anything. They’re just tea leaves.”

Heather opened ‘Unfogging the Future’ to page five and ran her finger down to look for any familiar clumpings. She stared at the tea leaves that were slowly gathering back at the center bottom from being tipped upside down and she wasn’t sure if she should wait for them to settle.

From her chair Professor Trelawney cried out, “Look past the ordinary of the world and into the extraordinary! Broaden your minds!”

Hermione huffed and frowned into Heather’s cup trying to search for something. Heather turned the cup around and spotted a clump that looked a bit like a blade of grass or maybe a curved stick or string. She looked for any type of swirly line resembling that and found at least five that could work.

“So… I think maybe you’ll fall down or something? Or something will fall around you… making you sad? And,” she looked for two clumped circles to the left of the cup, “and something about running.”

Hermione sighed and set the teacup down, “According to this you’re going to get swallowed up by something small.”

“Right. I’ll look out for that.” She glanced down at Harry and Ron who were doing a very poor job at stifling their laughs. “Will you two take it seriously?”

Ron covered his mouth with his arm and Harry half snorted and nodded, trying to look through the options again. Unfortunately for Harry, Professor Trelawney heard him and came up to see what all the fuss was.

“Let’s see your prediction, dear.”

Harry cleared his throat and looked down into the teacup. “This lump here means trials and suffering,” he checked the book, “and this one is happiness… so he’s going to suffer… but be happy about it.”

The class started laughing quietly and Professor Trelawney took Harry’s teacup from Ron. As she studied it everyone looked over intently. She moved her fingers over the mouth of it as if counting and muttered to herself.

“The great falcon, my dear. You have a deadly enemy.” She set the cup down and pressed her lips shut into a line.

“But everyone already knows that. Everyone knows about Harry and You-Know-Who.” Hermione sunk further into her chair under the eyes of the whole class and Professor Trelawney.

Heather stared at her wide-eyed. She couldn’t believe Hermione had just spoken out like that. And to a teacher, no less.

Professor Trelawney looked back down at Harry’s cup, ignoring Hermione’s outburst, and turned it clockwise. “I see here the club, meaning you’ll face an attack. And, oh dear, this is a very sad cup.” She leaned in closer and frowned. She turned it one more time and gasped very loud and sharp suddenly. She twisted it slightly and screamed, almost throwing the cup back down on the saucer. “Oh dear, dear boy… no… I shouldn’t say… It would be better that way.”

Harry took his cup and looked into it, shrugging at Ron.

One of Harry’s dorm mates, Dean, raised his hand but spoke anyways. “What is it?”

Several people were leaning over trying to look into Harry’s cup. He placed it back upside down on the saucer.

“What I saw… My dear, you’ve received the Grim.” Professor Trelawney shook her head sadly and picked the cup back up to examine it more.

Some people were looking around confused and others had clapped their hands to their mouths.

“What’s the Grim?” Harry looked up at Heather who shrugged.

“The Grim? Dear, it’s… It’s a giant spectral dog that haunts churchyards! It’s a very serious omen! It’s… the worst… It’s an omen of death!”

Heather closed her eyes and sighed. Of course Harry had to get a death omen. And of a scary dog like the one they’d seen. Now she was sure he’d be overthinking everything again. She turned to look at Hermione and saw she was gone from her chair. She looked back down and saw Hermione looking over Professor Trelawney’s shoulder.

Hermione shook her head. “It doesn’t look like the Grim at all.”

Professor Trelawney set the teacup down and crossed her arms, looking Hermione up and down. “Your aura… it’s very small and weak. That would explain why you are unable to be receptive around the art of divination. I would suggest meditation to increase your reception of the future.”

Dean was squinting into the teacup pulling it away and bringing it back, “No I see it. There, like this… but then again if you hold it out here it looks like a donkey…”

Heather stood up and took the cup from him to inspect it herself. She looked down and saw a clumpy mush of wet leaves. “I don’t see anything.”

Dean turned the cup around for Heather and pointed. “See those ears?”

“Are we done deciding if I’m gonna die or not?” Harry took back his teacup and hugged it tight so no one else could see inside it.

“I think we shall finish this class early today. Pack up and put the teacups in the back.” Professor Trelawney looked at Hermione one last time and walked back to her chair.

Everyone packed up and silently left the classroom.

Hermione still looked very upset as they were making their way down the spiral stairs. “It wasn’t the Grim. It was a mushy clump. She only said that because she’s heard of you and would have known about last year and the year before.”

“I agree.” Heather bumped Harry encouragingly.

He nodded but kept quiet the rest of the way down. They stood outside the transfiguration class in silence until more students gathered and Professor McGonagall let them in. Harry immediately sat down in the back and Hermione grumbled but didn’t say anything.

As class went on it was hard to pay attention to Professor McGonagall when Harry was looking so down. She took extra detailed notes for him since all he was doing was doodling in his notebook. Class was coming to an end and Professor McGonagall got to the last listed subject they would learn about.

Professor McGonagall circled the last word on the chalkboard and turned to the class, “Animagi. That is the name for wizards who can transform into animals, at will.”

Heather’s ears perked up. That definitely sounded cool.

Professor McGonagall continued, “The transformation process is very dangerous and any wizard who wishes to attempt it should have a healer standing by. Animagi are registered with the Ministry for safety. We shall touch more on this later in the year.”

Out of the corner of Heather’s eye she saw Harry drop his head on his desk. She looked around and saw several eyes looking over at him. Even sitting in the back he was getting lots of attention. She turned back to Professor McGonagall and just caught her mid-transformation from a cat back to herself.

“Really? Not that it matters but this is the first class no one has clapped…”

Hermione raised her hand. “We’ve just had our divination class and – ”

“Ah.” Professor McGonagall leaned on her desk and shook her head, fixing her hair. “And, may I ask, which one of you is it that’s supposed to be dying?”

After a minute Harry broke the silence, “I am.”

“Of course. Well let me inform you all… Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of a student every year. Not one of those predictions has ever come true. Seeing death omens is her way of greeting each new class. I don’t speak ill of colleagues… so I will leave it there.” Her nostrils flared as she sighed and shook her head. “There are some branches of magic that are incredibly imprecise. True Seers are very rare to find, and Professor Trelawney – Well.” She looked over at Harry, “You look in fine health, Mr. Potter. And I shall expect your homework in on time, however, if you die, I won’t take off points from Gryffindor for your late work.”

The class laughed and spirits were higher than they’ve been in the last two hours. Harry was back to talking as they made their way down to the great hall and Heather was sure Professor McGonagall had fixed whatever Professor Trelawney had done. They sat down for lunch together, but Ron was still looking unsure.

After they had all started eating, Ron turned to Harry. “And you’re sure you haven’t seen the Grim anywhere?”

Heather groaned.

“I have.” Harry set his fork down.

“What!” Ron stared at him.

“He has not! We saw a stray dog. And I didn’t even recognize it as a dog when I saw it.”

“There are lots of strays everywhere, Harry.”

Ron shook his head, “If he’s really seen a Grim then that’s very serious! My uncle died of one!”

Hermione laughed. “He died of seeing a Grim?”

“No he died after.”

“Look. Divination seems like its all guesswork and coincidences. It’s no different than with muggle fortune telling.”

“Sure. If you don’t have the Sight.” Ron stabbed his stew.

Hermione huffed, “You didn’t even see the Grim when you read his tea leaves! Divination is all nonsense.”

“You just don’t like things you’re bad at. Professor Trelawney said your aura was too weak for divinations.”

Heather and Harry stared at each other.

Hermione stood up from the table, “If being good means pretending to see nonsense in wet clumpy leaves then I’m not sure I want to study it any longer. My arithmancy class was way better!” She took her bag and walked away out of the great hall.

They all stared at her as she turned the corner out of sight.

Heather turned back. “Did she say she’d been to her arithmancy class?”

Ron frowned, “She can’t have been.”

They continued eating in silence. Heather went over Hermione’s schedule in her head. She couldn’t have been to arithmancy. That was at the same time as Divinations. The rest of the day studying and doing homework with Harry and Ron was very boring and quiet. Ron was upset, Harry was thinking to himself probably about that Grim, and Heather couldn’t figure out when Hermione would have had the time for her extra class.

By the end of the day Heather was extremely tired with all the worrying and thinking from the most eventful first day they’d had yet. She hadn’t seen Hermione since she left and wished she had asked more questions about her classes. With a groan she dropped to the floor after everyone in her dorm was asleep and did barely any exercises before crawling back into bed. She closed her eyes and hoped classes tomorrow would go smoother.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	10. A Hippogriff Nibble

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather looked at her unopened package from Hagrid sitting on her bed. Every time she tried to undo the brown paper, it growled. She sighed and reached for her wand, slowly poking the book into her opened bag and closing it tight. She supposed Hagrid would tell them how to handle it when they got to his class.

Pansy was still struggling on the floor, trying to get her book out of her trunk. For a split second she thought about helping her out, but quickly shook that thought away. Pansy would probably make it angry and bait it with one of Heather’s fingers. She looked down at her hand and thought she’d very much like to keep all her digits and walked out the door – ignoring the glare Pansy gave her. Draco was exiting his dorm too, with Crabbe and Goyle by his sides like always.

She stood in his way. “Can we please talk about Quidditch. I heard Marcus saying he’d hold tryouts soon!” Heather couldn’t stop thinking about Quidditch all morning. It was only the second day of classes but she knew Marcus would hold them without telling them. And it wasn’t like Draco was irreplaceable, so she doubted he’d get a heads up either.

“Oh alright.” Draco led them out of the common room, walking fast like always so that everyone else had to speed to catch up to him. It didn’t help that he grew a good amount over the summer and a bit more after she left his house and now had very long legs.

“You know he’s probably also looking for a new Seeker. We have to find out when tryouts are.” She didn’t know how she’d beat Cassius or Graham but finding out the tryout time was at least step one. Maybe she should take a page out of the twin’s books and put one of them to sleep like they did Crabbe and Goyle.

“I’ll find out, but I doubt I’ll be able to do much to bribe him this time.” Draco stopped them a minute to think. They were a corner away from turning into the corridor that lead to the entrance hall.

“Why can’t your dad do something about it?” Crabbe matched Draco’s pose, scratching his chin as well.

Heather smiled, “Are the new brooms too expensive? For a MALFOY?”

“Shut it, Potter.” He gave her a harsh scowl, matching his father’s so well from last year.

She rolled her eyes, “I just thought you were always saying he could do anything for you.” She shrugged and started turning the corner.

“He can!” He crossed his arms and huffed. “If you find out about Quidditch… let me know.”

She nodded and left him to pout with his friends. She shouldn’t have poked his buttons, but it wasn’t every day she saw Draco having to deal with problems all on his own without his father hovering over his shoulder to save the day. At least he’s now worrying about Quidditch like he should.

She crossed the entrance hall and headed into the great hall to meet Harry, Hermione, and Ron for breakfast. She saw Hermione happily engaging with Ron which was a good sign. She sat down and picked up a cup, tipping it into her mouth and waiting for the cup to fill on its own before pouring into her mouth.

“Could you manage it open?” Hermione sighed, frustrated. “I tried feeding it and – ”

“What do books even eat?” Ron wiped his hands on his robes.

Hermione passed him a napkin. “Oh, I don’t know. I just had to try SOMETHING.”

Heather shrugged. “I haven’t even opened mine yet. We opened Harry’s and it nearly ate our toes.”

“Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for Hagrid’s first lesson.”

“Professor Hagrid, Harry. He’s a teacher now.”

Harry nodded, half paying attention to Hermione and led them out of the castle into the grounds. They walked down the hill and Harry nudged Heather, pointing ahead at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

“Did you know they’d be in our class? I was hoping we didn’t have any with them.”

“No, I didn’t know. They must have picked this class then.”

Ron made some sort of disgruntled noise. “Since when would Malfoy even care about magical creatures? Let alone actually CARE for them.”

“You don’t know that…” Heather wasn’t sure if this was a Slytherin thing again. For some reason half the school thought they all hated very normal things. One of the Ravenclaws from last year herbology was genuinely surprised she could keep one of their plants alive during the nursery unit, like she was some sort of actual cold blooded snake… then again they also thought she had been the heir.

Hermione gave a small laugh, “It’s nothing against Slytherins… But come on… Draco caring for anything other than his broom?”

They all had a point. Draco and his goons laughed loud up in front of them and turned back, noticing Harry. Draco fainted onto Goyle and a few other students around them chuckled. She turned to Harry and rolled her eyes, trying to distract him from them.

Hagrid was waiting for everyone outside his hut and beamed happily as more students gathered around him. Heather could tell how nervous he was. He almost tripped on his own feet down his two steps but brushed it off with a cough. He was wearing his very furry vest again with his hair gelled down a bit. Even Fang looked a bit more groomed even if he had dried leaves stuck to his hind legs.

“Welcome! Gather ‘round right over here.” He motioned for them all to stand by the pumpkin patch. “This’ll be a great lesson, everyone! Come on now.” He stood awkwardly as the last students rushed to join the crowd. Once everyone arrived he started again. “Alright, follow me.”

He headed towards the forbidden forest and everyone started whispering, all clearly worried. Ron started trailing further behind and Hermione had to pull him with them by his bag’s strap. They got to the woods line and followed it along until it opened up into they reached a neat little paddock. Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

They stood by the fence while Hagrid stepped over it and stood in the center. “Now. Make sure yeh can all see. ‘Nough room for everyone… Open yer books to page – ”

“And how do we do that?” Draco’s irritated voice carried from the back.

Hagrid looked puzzled.

Draco pushed students aside and leaned against the fence. “How do we open. The books.” His tone was cold and condescending, making a few of his Slytherin friends laugh.

Everyone took out their books and looked over at Hagrid. He started fidgeting on the spot and nodding.

“Righ’. Well yeh just stroke the spine there.” He walked over and took Harry’s book that had been belted shut and ran his finger over the book’s fuzzy spine until it stopped moving.

Heather unwrapped her book and quickly ran her hand against its spine and saw it quiet down completely. It could have been a normal book if it weren’t for the eyes still following her around. Everyone else followed Hagrid’s lead and quieted their books down.

“Obviously, you stroke them.” Draco was imitating Hagrid’s deep voice to his friend and they laughed.

Hagrid’s small remaining smile dropped and he looked over at Heather and them. “I thought maybe everyone would have a laugh.”

Draco heard and sat on the fence, happy to be getting on the nerves of a professor. “Oh I’m sure we were all laughing our arses off trying to avoid being bitten.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Harry faced him.

Draco grinned but stayed silent, probably thinking he’d still not want to push Hagrid too much. He did still have the power to take away house points and give out detentions.

“Well now that yeh’ve got yer books… I’ll go… get the magical creature.” Hagrid wiped his forehead on his sleeve and left them, disappearing into the forest.

Draco hopped down and leaned on the inside of the fence, kicking a pinecone. “Dumbledore’s really letting this place go to the rats, isn’t he?”

No one spoke but it was hard to ignore him as he voiced his opinions so loud. Heather could tell that the Hufflepuffs who had never had any classes with a single Slytherin until this year were uncomfortable. Several Slytherins laughed.

“Dumbledore really couldn’t find a teacher for taking care of wizard pets? What makes this oaf even qualified?” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “When my father hears about this he’ll – ”

Harry hopped over the fence as well. “Shut up Malfoy. No one wants to hear you.”

“Harry!” Heather whispered urgently, motioning for him to come back.

Draco looked around and smirked. “Careful Potter! Dementors behind you! Quick someone catch him!”

This time more than just the Slytherins laughed, making Harry’s cheeks turn red. Heather sighed, knowing how horrible Harry must be feeling being the center of negative attention again. Ron and Hermione looked just as irritated knowing they couldn’t help Harry out either.

“OOOOH! Look there!”

A Gryffindor girl pointed behind Harry at the dozens of peculiar creatures hopping the fence into the circle. Draco scrambled to get out and Harry nearly tripped backing up. Ron pulled him over the fence quickly as if any one of those things could bite at them at any second.

The creatures looked mainly like horses, if horses had feathers, and had the head, wings, and front legs of giant eagles. They were grey and white with bits of black that tipped the feathers making them look incredibly majestic. Their sharp beak and claws were solid grey and shiny smooth like steel. If she could pick her favorite part about these creatures, I’d be their brilliant orange piercing eyes. Her eyes trailed down to the giant talons the size of kitchen knives – possibly the reason they all wore leather collars and chains for a leash that Hagrid held as they settled. Their heads all bobbed from side to side as they eyed the group of students.

Hagrid tethered them to the fence and walked back to the center. “I’d like to introduce to yeh all… Hippogriffs!” Everyone was silent, eyeing these giant creatures carefully. Hagrid looked like he was expecting more of a cheer than silence and stood there for a minute before clearing his throat. “How many of yeh have seen one before?”

Heather looked around and saw only one hand come up from one of the few Ravenclaws.

Hagrid nodded. “Good. Good. Well, firs’ thing to note is that they’re extremely proud creatures. Very dangerous to insult and very easy too. They’re very sensitive and offend too easily. So don’t never insult one.”

Harry nudged Heather’s arm and jerked his chin towards where Draco stood, whispering to Crabbe and Goyle. They were all snickering and looking over at the Hippogriffs. Her anxiety rose, both for Hagrid and for Draco. If he got hurt he’d miss the tryouts and her own chances would be ruined.

“I swear if he ruins Hagrid’s first lesson…” Harry shook his head.

“Right behind you if you’re planning what I’m thinking,” Ron nodded.

Hermione scoffed, “Will you two please focus instead of thinking of ways to get into trouble?”

Heather kept her eyes on him, getting more and more worried as he missed all the important safety information Hagrid was telling them about.

“Firs’ yeh bow. If he bows back, yeh’re good to touch him – SLOWLY at first. If the hippogriff doesn’t bow…” Hagrid looked at everyone carefully, “Yeh best be backing away if yeh don’t want to shake hands with their claws.”

Everyone stared at the creatures who were staring back, taking in the information Hagrid had just handed them. Everyone was thinking what Heather was thinking… Were they going to ride them? She didn’t want to ride one. They were giant and had wings and giant sharp talons gripping the ground. The last thing she wanted to do was go anywhere near one and the second last thing she wanted to do was watch any of her friends on one.

“Who wants to go first?” Hagrid clapped his hands and looked around.

Heather stepped back thinking she would bump into Hermione or Ron. She looked behind her and saw everyone else was also stepping back.

“Harry! Good man.”

Heather turned back and met Harry’s eyes as he spun around behind him. Harry hadn’t backed away with everyone else. They exchanged wide eyes but there wasn’t anything they could do unless they wanted Hagrid’s feelings hurt. She watch Harry nod at Hagrid and step forward slowly.

“Harry what about your tea leaves!” A Gyrffindor girl called from behind.

Hermione snorted but Heather could tell Harry WAS thinking of his tea leaves. He looked at them pleadingly but continued towards the center to meet Hagrid.

“Harry, meet Buckbeak. Buckbeak, Harry.” A hippogriff came forward and blew out his nostrils like a long sigh of acknowledgment. Hagrid smiled. “He seems eager.”

Everyone gasped when Hagrid undid the hippogriffs chains and let it fall to the ground. He lured the hippogriff closer to Harry but it stopped halfway, looking very concerned at the stranger before him.

“Don’t blink, Harry. Hippogriffs don’t trust people who blink to much.” Hagrid pushed Harry closer a bit.

Heather’s hands came up to cover her eyes, splitting just enough to let her watch Harry bow. She stared down at the giant claws and saw one lift and curl inward as the hippogriff bowed. She heard Hermione sigh relieved and others cheering quietly.

“Pat his beak, Harry. He’s accepted your company!”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he made slow moves as he reached out to pet his beak and head, making his way around to the hippogriff’s fluffy neck.

“I want to pet him!” More students were getting excited and calling out for their turn at the creature.

Heather relaxed and watched Buckbeak close his eyes as Harry scratched him where Hedwig always likes to be scratched. She breathed in and thought about maybe having a turn at petting one too.

“Alright, let’s try getting yeh on ‘im.” Hagrid picked Harry up before he could reply and tossed him onto Buckbeak’s back. “Don’t pull any feathers out!” He smacked the hippogriff’s behind.

“Oh no.” Heather gasped as Buckbeak squawked and spread his massive wings and kicked into the air with his muscly hind legs.

Harry gripped on tight as Buckbeak jumped into the air and started flying high above the treetops. She watched him open mouthed until he disappeared from sight. She met Hermione’s eyes and stood quietly with everyone else waiting for Harry to come back, but he didn’t.

“He’s coming back… right?” Ron squeaked and Hagrid laughed, pointing up to the left.

Everyone watched carefully and after five minutes saw Buckbeak making his way back, diving and landing roughly. Harry slid off and fell.

“How was it?” Hagrid picked Harry up off the ground.

Harry dusted himself off. “It was amazing.”

Everyone cheered loudly and more people raised their hands to go next. As Harry made his way back everyone patted his shoulder and congratulated him on being brave.

“It was actually fun,” he assured Heather.

“I’m still not going to ride one if it’ll take off. I might pet one.” She looked back towards the hippogriffs and saw Draco making his way to the center.

Hagrid let another loose and didn’t realize Draco had made his was closer until the hippogriffs all screeched and jutted their long necks forward as if to try and intimidate him with warning bites.

“I want Buckbeak.” He rolled up his shirt and crossed his arms expectantly.

Hagrid nodded and motioned him back as he led Buckbeak away from the herd. “Alrigh’. Easy there.”

Heather’s anxiety was very high again as Malfoy bowed, but to her – and most other’s – amazement Buckbeak bowed back. Draco strutted forward and started petting his beak and feathers.

“This is easy.” He looked back at Harry. “If Potter can do it then obviously anyone could.”

Heather hoped very hard that he was thinking through his words very carefully. Most of the Slytherins were cheering him on and he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the giant dangerous creature he was petting.

“You’re not dangerous. Are you? You’re just a big giant pigeon, aren’t you?” he laughed.

Hagrid’s grin dropped. Within seconds Buckbeak had turned on him, opening his beak just barely and taking a quick bite of the arm petting his head. Draco stumbled back, clutching his bleeding arm, and screamed very loud, spooking the other hippogriffs. Hagrid had distracted Buckbeak with a snack and slid the collar back on, chaining him with the others.

He turned to the wailing Draco, curled on the ground. “Now. Now. It was only a nibble. Let me see.”

Draco let out more cries, “I’m dying! The beast got me! I’m bleeding out!”

Ron and Harry chortled beside Heather. She got on her toes to see how bad his arm was, spotting the dripping blood coming out in a stream down his arm onto his white shirt. She walked over to where Draco had dropped his sweater and met Hagrid as he scooped Draco up.

“Here, put some pressure on it?” She handed it to Draco who ripped it out of her hands.

“It ain’t that bad. Just a normal cut,” Hagrid made his way over the fence.

Crabbe and Goyle followed behind Heather who was having a harder time keeping pace with Hagrid.

“He’ll still be able to play Quidditch, right?”

“I’ll never play again! My arm’ll get cut off! It’s a mangled mess!” Draco screamed in pain.

“It’s a small but deep cut, Malfoy,” Hagrid laughed nervously.

“We’ll see if that’s what my Father thinks!” Draco spat back.

Crabbe and Goyle continued on and Heather ran back to the class.

Ron immediately rounded on her, “Why were you so concerned with MALFOY.”

“He’s our Seeker! Whether I like him or not the Slytherin Quidditch team needs him.” She frowned at him until his arms uncrossed.

“She’d never be friends with him. Would you?” Hermione looked at her but didn’t wait long enough for any kind of response. “So calm down, Ron.”

He sighed, “Sorry. I just hate him so much! Hagrid told us not to insult them! And Malfoy just called him a pigeon!”

Harry kicked at the fence. “He did it on purpose. He wanted to ruin Hagrid’s first day. What a lousy snake.”

Heather nodded. “He said he’d tell his father.”

“It was his own fault,” Dean spoke up above the low chatter.

One of the Slytherins scoffed, “Who starts off with dangerous killer creatures. I’m heading back. No teacher no class.”

Heather, Harry, Hermione, and Ron stayed behind and watched everyone else leave the paddock area. They watched the hippogriffs sit down and preen their feathers. They thought Hagrid would be back to put them away but as they sat there waiting the bells went off in the distance and they had to head back to the castle.

At dinner time they waited by the great hall doors to see if Hagrid was running late to dinner, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Do you think maybe Draco really wasn’t ok?” Hermione bit her bottom lip.

“Madam Pomfrey can fix anything. She’s fixed me up from much worse.”

Heather poked Harry in the arm hard. “Don’t remind me.”

“Come on, I’m starving. Maybe he’ll show up later.” Ron entered the great hall and made his way down to the Gryffindor tables.

Heather waved them goodbye and headed to her own Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting across from a crying Pansy. Heather sat down next to her and waited for Crabbe and Goyle to say anything about Draco but they just looked at her confused.

“Well? How is he?”

“Oh,” Crabbe nodded. “He’s ok.”

Goyle elbowed him, causing him to drop his fork.

“Oh, I mean. Madam Pomfrey said he was lucky to survive. Any more blood out and he would’ve definitely died.”

Pansy started sobbing louder.

“Really? But it looked like just a tiny cut…” She stared at Crabbe but his expression didn’t really say much. “Well he can still play Seeker, right?”

Pansy sat up and turned on her, “Is that all you care about! He’s hurt and all alone in the hospital in pain and we’re all here enjoying this food!” She smashed her spoon into the shared chicken pie in front of them.

“Hey!” Goyle pulled the pie away from her.

“Pansy, he isn’t dying. He has a cut. Madam Pomfrey has healed much, much worse.” Heather watched her break down again and sob into her bright green sweater that probably didn’t meet the uniform rules.

“How could that oaf let this happen!” her cries were muffled.

“Well at least they fired him.” Crabbe looked up at the high table. “See? He’s not here.”

Heather felt sweat beads start to form on her face. Did they really fire Hagrid? On his first day? Would he go back to being grounds keeper or did he really get kicked out of Hogwarts all together? Now she too felt like crying and bit her tongue instead.

She hardly ate anything for dinner and quickly caught up to Harry as they exited the great hall. “Harry! Hagrid never showed up! They’re saying he got fired.”

“Stupid Malfoy!” Ron growled. “He ruins everything!”

Hermione put her hands up to calm everyone down. “We should just go see him. Those are probably just rumors. They wouldn’t fire him just like that.”

Harry sighed, “But his dad can get lots done when he wants to. Firing Hagrid wouldn’t even be that hard compared to kicking Dumbledore out of the castle last year.”

“Hermione’s right. Let’s go see him.” Ron looked at Harry’s watch. “Heather we’ll see you at one.”

“Wait!” Hermione glanced at Heather and Harry. “Maybe we shouldn’t be leaving the castle at night… Wouldn’t want to make things worse for Hagrid if we get caught sneaking to his hut.”

“Oh stop it. We’re allowed to walk on the school grounds. The dementors haven’t let Black through, now have they.” Harry turned to Heather, “We’ll see you at one.”

They parted ways and Heather made her way down to the common room to wait for Harry and Ron. She studied her potions and herbology guide for several hours until they knocked at one and she snuck out of the castle with them. Luckily no one was walking around and it took hardly no time at all to make it down the sloping lawn to Hagrid’s hut.

The lights were on which gave them all a lot of hope that everything was ok. If Hagrid was still there then he must not have gotten fired. They knocked and waited, hearing Fang scratching at the door. Fang no longer barked when it was them and Hagrid seemed to have noticed that too.

“Open,” Hagrid yelled rougher than normal.

They walked in and saw him sitting at his wooden table drinking with a towel soaked in tears on his knee. They sat down and Heather put the cloak away.

“I musta broken a record o’ some kind… Fired firs’ day.” Hagrid hiccupped and drank more from his giant cup.

“Did they really fire you?” Hermione gasped and looked like she was about to start crying too.

Hagrid shook his head and they all relaxed a bit.

“But I’m sure they will soon,” Hagrid groaned. “Madam Pomfrey fixed him up but he’s still cryin’… moanin’ ‘bout the pain an’ all.”

“He’s obviously lying.” Harry pounded the table. “We can prove that!”

Heather rolled her eyes. “How? You can’t intimidate him into telling the truth.”

Hagrid wasn’t even listening to them. “The school gov’nors been told…Sayin’ I started too big an’ shoulda done flobberworms instead… S’all my fault for erything…”

“No! We all saw it was Malfoy’s fault. We’re witnesses! We can tell the school governors that he did it on purpose!” Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm and shook him.

Ron nodded. “Yeah! We’ll help you out!”

Hagrid blew into his towel and pulled Harry and Ron into a tight hug. Heather laughed at their faces and helped them not to stumble too much when he let them go.

“Yer right!” Hagrid sounded more cheerful now.

“We should get going, Hagrid.” Hermione got up and unfolded the cloak for them.

He saw them out the door and looked up at the moon and stars. “YER NOT S’POSED TO BE WANDERIN’ OUT AT NIGH’, HARRY.” He looked at all of them and around at the tree line. “I’m takin’ yeh guys back. Don’t come see me at night, alrigh’? Not this year. S’not worth riskin’ yer safety for me.”

They walked back under the cloak with Hagrid watching carefully behind them and Fang at the front, trotting merrily. He pulled Fang back as they left him at the entrance hall holding up a large lantern. They walked Heather down to her common room and hugged goodbye. She stepped in and made her way to the bathroom to change and headed to bed.

Pansy was asleep but she still shook her awake, “Did you go see Draco after dinner? Is he ok?”

Pansy groaned and kept her eyes shut. “Yeah. He’s ok.”

Heather crawled into bed ready for some much-needed sleep. Draco was fine, all healed up. And helping Hagrid would be easy. So far nothing was looking bad and everything seemed very manageable. She curled up under the sheets and closed her eyes.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	11. First Potions Class

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

“How! How is that possible! Your classes don’t line up!” Heather was refusing to take another bite of her toast until Hermione spilled how she was managing all her classes.

Hermione sighed and set down her spoon. “Look. If you want to take all these classes too… just talk to your head of house. Professor McGonagall was the one to approve everything for me so I’m sure Snape can do the same for you.”

Heather ran her tongue along her teeth. She must be having private lessons with her teachers or just doing studying and completing homeworks. She couldn’t possibly have attended arithmancy or her other class yesterday. Draco was taking extra potions lessons for sure and if Professor Snape gave them, so would other teachers.

Heather took one more bite of her toast. “Fine. I’ll go now.” She stood up, swung her bag over her shoulder and walked down to Professor Snape’s office.

His door was closed which meant he might not be in there. But he wasn’t in the great hall for breakfast either. A thought occurred to her that maybe he was giving Draco lessons in one of the classrooms before their first lesson of the year. She raised her fist and knocked on the door three times. She breathed out nervously and waited for any sound but there was none. She knocked again and was going to turn towards the classrooms passageway when the door opened ajar.

“Enter,” Professor Snape’s cold voice sounded irritated already. “Potter.”

Her eyes widened and she quickly poked her head in. He was sitting at his desk with two fingers at his temple and his chin rested on his thumb, his other hand held his arm up by his elbow. She pushed the door open further and stepped in, shivering under her sweater. The fireplace was on low while other candles glowed behind jars of questionable liquids and tidbits.

“Once again, Potter. No, I will not give you extra potions lessons – no matter what you think Draco – ”

Heather decided not to touch on that this time and shook her head. “Professor…” She just needed to rip the bandaid off. “I would like to take more classes than the ones I chose.”

“More classes?” He gave a single chuckle, though it sounded more like a scoff to her. “And tell me, Potter. How do you plan on managing more than nine classes that you already take?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Studying hard?”

He laughed and leaned forward, crossing his arms on his desk over what looked like a pile of quizzes. He noticed her looking and flipped them over. “You can barely manage to do well in potions.”

Her mouth fell open. “Me? ‘Barely’? But – Sir, I got the second highest scores last year – ”

“Just because you aren’t failing miserably like the others does not mean you’re succeeding.” He leaned back again. “Even if you wanted to, Potter, it may have escaped your notice that the other classes overlap others.”

“But Hermione’s taking all the classes offered.” She frowned, refusing to back down. If Hermione was doing it somehow then she could too.

Professor Snape’s mouth parted slightly and he looked at her for a long while. “Granger… is taking all the classes?”

She nodded and watched him breath in slowly, nostrils flaring just barely.

“I see. Leave.” He stood and flicked his wand, opening his door wide. “And make sure you – or your friends – aren’t late.”

“But – !”

“Now,” he frowned.

She huffed and turned on her heels, squeezing her hands into fists. Just as she reached the doorway she spun around, deciding she wasn’t leaving empty handed. “Has Marcus scheduled tryouts?”

“The weekend. Goodbye.”

The door closed and she jumped back as it slammed and echoed throughout the dungeons. It was ten minutes till the bells rang for the start of class so she decided to head down early to study. She was deeply engrossed in last year’s textbook trying to recall what she had glimpsed on the quizzes when Ron’s light tap with his shoe made her jump.

She looked up at Harry and her friends. “There’s a quiz… possibly.”

Ron looked offended. “But it’s the first day back! What? How are we supposed to remember what we did last year?”

Hermione sighed, “Ron. Every year we build off the stuff from the year prior… so you should already know this stuff.”

“Why didn’t you come tell us?” Harry was looking furious, taking the book from her hand and flipping through pages as if he could read it all that fast.

The distant bells rang and within seconds Professor Snape appeared from the shadows behind them and opened the potions classroom. Everyone filed in after him and picked their new spots for the year. Harry made his way towards the back but Heather blocked him and directed him to the front.

“This is a bad idea.” He slammed his books down. “Why do we always sit so close to the front!”

Ron took a seat next to him. “And then you blame us for getting you in trouble. We’re sitting right under his big nose.”

Like usual the Gryffindors sat to the right while the Slytherins sat to the left, making Heather the only Slytherin not on her own side. She heard a gasp and looked over at Pansy’s table. She was looking down at Crabbe and Goyle and the empty stool next to them.

“Maybe Malfoy really is injured badly!” Hermione shook her head. “Those beaks are really sharp you know. They can cut into tree trunks really easily. They eat the sap that comes off with their long tongues and – ”

“No. Pansy saw him in the hospital wing and said he looked fine.” Heather rolled her eyes at Pansy and her raised arm.

“Ms. Parkinson.” Professor Snape held a stack of papers in his hands and crossed his arms.

She wiped her tears. “Is hippogriff spit poisonous?”

Hermione’s hand shot up. “No it isn’t. But their saliva can actually – ”

“Quiet.” Professor Snape held up the stack of papers and let go, allowing them to float to every student and land turned down at their tables. “Take out a single quill and your ink. Nothing else.” He walked over to his desk and sat down, waiting for everyone to do as he had said. “Begin.”

Heather flipped the quiz over and blinked at the abundance of questions on the first page alone. She looked up at Ron and Harry who looked like they were being asked to build a home phone from scratch. She picked up her quill, dipped it in ink, and began.

It had been thirty minutes and her brain already felt like mush. All the questions were incredibly difficult and specific. She answered all of them and turned the quiz over again. She shut her eyes and ran her hands down her face, unable to believe how much knowledge she had left over from the summer. She looked up at Hermione and saw her on the last page.

There was a cough and she looked up at Harry and Ron who were glancing at her wide-eyed with desperation. They were on the second page with half the questions left unanswered. She frowned and shook her head. Harry frowned back coughed again. Ron mouthed help but she refused.

“If you’re done,” Professor Snape was standing behind them, “I’ll take your quiz.”

Heather nodded and handed it over behind her shoulder. After a few more minutes he called the quizzes back and set them aside. He stood by the chalk board and began the lecture for the Shrinking Solution they would be making.

Heather made sure to write more than just what was appearing on the chalk board. After thirty more minutes of the lecture they began preparing their ingredients. She set up her station as neatly as possible, using the extra space beside her for separating out her ready ingredients.

The cauldrons were all simmering nicely when the classroom doors opened and Draco limped inside, holding his slinged arm close to his chest. He waved solemnly to Slytherins as he passed by them and winced in pain.

Pansy quickly hopped off her stool and took his bag of his shoulder. “How’s it feel?”

Draco looked down at his arm and grimaced. “It hurts still.” He winked at Crabbe and Goyle the second Pansy turned her back on him to take out everything he needed.

“Get to your seats, now. Start working.” Professor Snape didn’t look up from the quizzes. He was frowning at all of them.

“Unbelievable,” Harry muttered under his breath. His stirring picked up and his bubbles were coming up all deformed. “He’s clearly faking. Surely she doesn’t believe him.”

Heather watched her own bubbles float up perfectly oval shaped. “She probably doesn’t.”

Draco picked up his cauldron and ingredients and walked over to their table, pushing aside Heather’s things and setting his own down.

“Hey! Careful… You made them touch…” She started sorting through her pile of daisy roots again. She only needed three spoons of it and had separated out three spoons of the best-looking chunks.

“Malfoy what are you doing here.” Harry moved his cauldron away, weary of his intentions.

“Sir,” Draco clutched his arm close. “I need Weasley to cut my roots for me… My arm is hurting very badly.”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “I’m not cutting them up for you!”

“Weasley. Cut the roots or lose house points.” He was still only focused on the quizzes.

Ron turned back to Draco. “Your arm’s fine!” he hissed.

Draco smirked and sat dawn, pushing the roots over to him. Ron took the knife and started hacking away at them as fast as he could. Draco grinned the entire time and Heather guessed why. The second Ron put the knife down Malfoy turned back to Professor Snape.

“Professor? He’s made them into complete mush.”

Ron’s face turned red with fury. “You should have cut them yourself!”

Professor Snape approached and stood behind Draco with his hands behind his back. He stared down at the mess and behind his long black hair smiled amusedly. “Weasley,” he whispered slowly.

Ron gulped.

“Give Draco your roots.” Professor Snape’s voice was calculated with a hint of delight.

“But these are mine!”

“Now.” His voice was dangerously low and irritated.

Draco took Ron’s roots and set them next to his cauldron. “And the shrivelfig? Professor?” Draco almost let out a laugh. He could hardly keep from smiling. “It needs to be skinned.”

“Mr. Potter can do it. If he can take down a troll – surely – skinning a shrivelfig is nothing.” Professor Snape looked down at Harry with loathing and stepped back towards his desk.

Harry snatched the shrivelfig up and Heather couldn’t help but to remind him to do it carefully, incase the same thing happened to him as it did Ron.

“I know.” Harry spat.

Draco looked over at Heather. “You’re brother’s so kind and helpful. What a hero.”

She ignored him, sensing Ron’s glare on her and Draco. She dropped in her perfect roots and started stirring as instructed, dropping in the shrivelfig skin and watching its juices spill into the surface of the liquid before sinking.

Draco was stirring quietly when he let out a chuckle. “Seen Hagrid around?”

Ron kept his eyes down on his mess of a potion. “Keep your nose to yourself.”

Draco shrugged. “Just wondering if you’ve said goodbye yet.”

Hermione scoffed. “He hasn’t been fired, Malfoy.”

“Not yet. But Father’s already let the school governors know AND informed the Ministry of Magic. He knows some really important people who sounded completely appalled about my injury. I mean, it may never be the same again.”

Heather dropped her caterpillars in a little too roughly. “You’re trying to get Hagrid fired? It was YOUR fault you got hurt.”

“That’s why you’re pretending still.”

Draco nodded at Harry. “Among other reasons… Cut my caterpillar. Weasley.”

There was a sizzling noise from behind and Neville was fanning at his cauldron with his textbook. Professor Snape rushed forward and groaned. He took the textbook from Neville mid-fan and set it down hard enough to blow out the fire underneath. He looked inside and dipped the ladle in, spooning orange liquid out and slowly poured it back in from up high for the class to see.

“Why… is it orange, Longbottom?”

Neville shrunk back in his seat and stared at his cauldron. “I-i-it was in the heat for too long.”

“No,” he drawled. “That’s why it was burning.”

“Oh,” Neville nodded.

Professor Snape looked more annoyed now. “Why is this orange? I specifically stated, multiple times – not to mention the fact that it is on the board – “ he pointed at the instructions, “Was I not CLEAR enough when I said only ONE rat spleen was needed for this potion? Was it not stated plainly enough that you need not add more than a single splash of leech juice? Must I start spelling it out as well?”

Neville was trembling in his seat shaking his head, sniffling with tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

Hermione raised her hand. “Sir, please let me help him with it. I can put it right quite easily – ”

Professor Snape set the ladle down and turned to her. “No one asked you to show off, Miss Granger,” he said coldly.

Hermione lowered her arm, turning as pink as Neville was.

“Longbottom. We will be using your potion and your animal for the demonstration at the end of the lesson. If you were paying attention, you’d know that if done wrong, the Shrinking Solution could turn into a highly painful poison. That should be encouragement enough, though we’ll all have to wait and see.” Professor Snape moved away and continued looking into everyone else’s cauldrons.

The second Professor Snape turned away Hermione started pointing and wordlessly putting in ingredients to try to change the color.

Heather looked over at Professor Snape and back at them. “Hermione! You’ll get in trouble. Neville you can start over. You have enough time.”

Neville shook his head. “What if I mess it up again? Then Trevor’ll die by my own hand!”

“It’s an easy fix. I’m just going to add some – ”

Heather turned back to her own cauldron, almost finished. “I know how to fix it. You don’t need to tell me.”

Seamus stuck his arm between Harry and Ron, reaching for their table’s brass scales. “Hey. You heard the news on Black? It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. He’s been sighted by a muggle.”

“Where?” Everyone at the table asked in unison.

Heather narrowed her eyes at Draco but all he did was grin.

“Near here, apparently. A muggle phoned it in but by the time the aurors go there… he was gone…” Seamus shook his head and headed back to his table with the scales.

“Well that doesn’t matter,” Heather drew their attention. “The dementors will get him, right?” She looked over at Draco for confirmation.

He ladled the bright green liquid and hummed. “Sure… unless they don’t. I mean. He escaped from them once… who’s to say he can’t do it again?”

Harry, Ron, and Heather looked at each other. Sirius Black would have had to get passed dementors to escape… but it’s those very same dementors looking for him now. But the Ministry must have surely considered that.

“Maybe these dementors are better trained…” Heather tried to sound as hopeful as possible.

Draco laughed. “You can’t train dementors, Potter. You three did listen to Dumbledore didn’t you? Or do your ears stop working from time to time? Actually… that would explain a lot with you two.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Ron went back to his potion, unlike Harry.

Draco noticed Harry staring down at his beheaded caterpillar head. “Thinking of catching Black yourself, Potter?” His lips stretched into a sickly smile. “If I were you I would. I’d be out there looking for him… Chasing him down… Anything,” he whispered.

She stared at Draco for a long while, not really understanding what he was trying to accomplish. Did he just want Harry to get himself killed?

“What are you going on about? Why would Harry go after some deranged lunatic?” Ron was asking the questions floating around in their heads.

Draco turned to Heather. “You’re not a Gryffindor, I wouldn’t expect YOU to risk your neck for revenge. I know you’d rather stay in school than hunt him down yourself.”

She didn’t know what to say. He was dancing around something, trying to get on their nerves without revealing too much.

Harry slammed his fist down. “What are you talking about? Why would we want to – ”

“Quiet. While your potions simmer, I expect everyone to be working on their assignments. Longbottom, we’ll be testing your potion soon.”

Hermione was back in her seat with a vial of bright green liquid in her hand already. Professor Snape went back to his desk and Hermione switched her cauldron for Neville’s. He sighed relieved and mouthed thank yous at her.

Heather shook her head. “That’s cheating.”

Hermione frowned. “Trevor shouldn’t have to face being poisoned.”

“Then he shouldn’t be using Trevor as his animal.” Heather tore off eleven inches and got to work on her essay, refusing to hear anything more of anything.

Draco got up and collected his things, joining Crabbe and Goyle again as they laughed at Neville reassuring his toad that everything would be alright. Heather looked down at her own toad who looked very upset at her, probably for her last comment.

“I would never poison you.” Her toad just turned his back on her.

“What did he mean by all that?” Harry scribbled on his parchment as he thought. “I mean… What does he know?”

Heather shrugged, but she had to remind him about the station. “Mr. Weasley did seem like there was something he wasn’t tell us…”

Hermione was just tuning into the discussion, “What are you two talking about?”

“Malfoy’s trying to trick Harry into leaving school to go after Black,” Ron said.

“Oh Harry! You mustn’t! That’s such a bad idea.”

“I’m obviously not leaving.” Harry looked at Heather. “I’m not.”

Heather nodded, “Yeah. I know, I know. Good.”

Professor Snape called them all forward and Heather stood right in front with Draco and other eager Slytherins, except she was blocking Neville’s view while Hermione calmed him down.

There was a smile playing on Professor Snape’s lips as he held onto a wiggling Trevor. “Observe, what happens to Longbottom’s toad.” His black eyes were glittering as he spooned some of the green liquid into a small measuring spoon and forced it in Trevor’s mouth. “If Longbottom has managed to produce a proper Shrinking Solution, then his toad will simply turn into a tadpole – else, his toad is poisoned, which I am sure… will be the case.”

Everyone was quiet as they watched Neville’s toad. Professor Snape held him out for them all to see and was just as invested in the little toad’s fate as everyone else.

POP

Trevor was now wiggling as a tiny tadpole in Professor Snape’s palm. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Hermione behind Heather. The Gryffindors started applauding while the Slytherins made their ways back to their seats. Heather sat back with her arms crossed as Hermione patted Neville on the back for show.

Professor Snape took out a small bottle of yellow liquid and let a few drops hit the wiggling Trevor and with another POP, he reappeared as he was before. Neville took him back and everyone else got to their seats.

“Five points from Gryffindor.” Professor Snape looked at Hermione. “Next time you break my class rules I will be taking more points off. Dismissed.”

The bells tolled and everyone packed up their things. Heather, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their ways up the steps.

“I can’t believe he took away points for Neville getting it right!” Ron kicked at a step and winced.

Heather crossed her arm. “He didn’t take away points for that. Hermione helped Neville cheat. He was supposed to do it himself.”

“He would have poisoned Trevor!”

“Did you not see he had vials on him?”

Ron looked around. “Hermione – “

They all looked around for her, but she was nowhere to be found. They waited for everyone to pass them and looked down the stairs at Hermione rushing up, clutching her bag tightly.

“Where were you?”

She shrugged at Ron. “I forgot something.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? You just disappeared…” Heather looked at Hermione’s flushed face.

Hermione looked down at her bag, “Oh no. My bag’s tearing open!”

She let all her textbooks spill onto the floor and took out her wand to repair her bag. She stuffed her textbooks back in and was barely able to lift it up.

“Why are you carrying all those books around?” Harry helped her get the bag over her shoulder.

“Just to study when I need to.” She smiled at them and headed towards the great hall for lunch, leaving Harry, Heather, and Ron there at the top of the stairs.

“She’s hiding something…” Ron put a finger to his chin.

Heather frowned. Ron was onto something. Hermione was definitely not telling them everything… actually she wasn’t explaining anything at all. As they were walking, her suspicion was washed by sudden guilt. She was getting mad at Hermione for keeping a secret from her… but she was doing the same with them about Draco. Of course, her secret was over, and Hermione’s seemed to be going on still.

She sat down for lunch and decided to clear her mind and study for their Defense class which was right after. She bit down on her sandwich and turned the pages, liking what she was seeing in their new textbook. She didn’t have high hopes for the class still… but at least Professor Lupin proved to be a little more useful than Lockhart so far. Maybe the class wouldn’t be a total joke this year…

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	12. Know Your Boggart

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

It had been a minute since the bells had rung for class to begin but the doors were still closed and Professor Lupin was nowhere to be seen. Students were starting to whisper and everyone was starting to get the feeling that the new Defense professor was worse than Lockhart already. And they hadn’t even started the class yet.

“At least Lockhart showed up to teach.” Heather sighed and leaned forward, looking at both ends of the empty corridor. There wasn’t anyone in sight.

“You’re right.” Hermione avoided Ron’s glare. “And you know he DID have SOME good material in his textbooks.”

“Unbelievable.” Ron walked out of line and headed to the front. He talked to the student in the front and then reached for the door, opening it with ease. “It’s unlocked!” he called out and headed inside.

Students started filing in. Heather sat next to Ron and after another minute of no teacher, everyone started unpacking their books, parchment, and quills. The chatter continued and after five minutes since the bells rang, the doors opened and Professor Lupin walked in.

He kept his eyes on the front and smiled as he reached his desk. He set down a patched up briefcase on top of a few stacks of papers and turned to face the class. He seemed to hesitate for a second. “Afternoon, students. You can all put away your books and quills and all that. You’ll need only your wand for today’s lesson.”

Heather turned to Ron and was happy to see her look of excitement matched with his. The only other times books weren’t required was that time with the Cornish pixies… and it hadn’t gone well. But it was still a lot more fun than just note taking. Heather took out her wand and set it down in front of her. Ron quickly showed off his new wand again and did the same.

Professor Lupin started down the class and opened the doors, “Follow me.”

Everyone quickly got up and followed him out. Harry seemed just as intrigued and excited and the four of them were very hopeful that the lesson today might actually turn out alright. They were led down a long corridor and around corner after corner when Peeves suddenly swooped down in front of Professor Lupin.

Peeves hung upside down and swung like a pendulum. “Loony, loopy, Lupin, loony, loopy, Lupin,” he sang. He laughed and turned right side up, sticking his fingers in his mouth and spit out a piece of chewed gum. He laughed again and started stuffing it in the keyhole to the broom closet on their left.

Everyone stared at Professor Lupin, wondering what he’d do to Peeves. Peeves wasn’t normally rude to any teachers and seemed to actively avoid getting in any of the professor’s ways or lines of sight even.

Professor Lupin kept his smile and shook his head in amusement. “Not too sure Mr. Filch would appreciate that.”

Peeves laughed again and blew a long wet raspberry in Professor Lupin’s direction before turning back upside down and continued filling the keyhole with more gum.

Professor Lupin turned to the class. “Observe.” He took out his wand and extended his arm with a slight bend out at Peeves. “Waddiwasi!”

The now large wad of gum shot out of the keyhole like a bullet and lodged straight into Peeve’s nostrils. Peeves shrieked and floated away as fast as he could, cursing at the top of his lungs.

Dean started clapping. “Awesome!”

Professor Lupin chuckled. “Thank you. Now… let’s continue.”

They continued on their way to wherever he was taking them. Heather felt her hope for a decent teacher swell. They were already learning new and cool spells and they hadn’t even gotten to officially start their lesson yet. She wondered how that spell worked and hoped none of the students present wouldn’t try it out on people without properly testing it.

They got down to the staffroom and the excitement all around increased. Not many students had ever been inside the staffroom before.

“Let’s go in.” Professor Lupin opened the door and held it as students entered.

The staffroom was looking like it had last year when they hid, listening to the very awful news that Ginny had been taken. It was now empty, except for one teacher.

Professor Snape sat in one of the armchairs by the fire and sighed very audibly in annoyance. He closed up the newspaper he was reading and stood. His glittering eyes scanned the class and rested on Professor Lupin, who was closing the door behind them, and sneered.

“I was wondering about the wardrobe… Leave it open.” Professor Snape strode forward and his black robes billowed behind him like waves cutting through the air. He opened the staffroom door and turned back. “Let me give you a fair warning, Lupin. Don’t entrust Neville Longbottom with anything difficult,” he turned his glare to Hermione, “Unless Miss Granger is there to hiss instructions in his ear.”

Neville backed away and hid behind a shorter Gryffindor. Hermione huffed and crossed her arms but turned just as red as Neville was. Professor Lupin looked unphased by Professor Snape’s remark and turned to find Neville hiding behind other students.

“Thanks for the warning, Snape. But I was actually going to ask him to assist me with part of the lesson. I have full confidence he will do more than fine.” Professor Lupin took a few steps forward.

Professor Snape’s lip curled but did not respond, instead deciding to leave and slammed the door with a loud THUD that echoed throughout the room. Neville poked his even redder face out and sighed.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Professor Lupin walked over to the old wardrobe in the back and motioned for everyone to gather in front.

Heather followed Harry and Ron to the front and gave enough room for Hermione. More people were fighting to get closer, but Professor Lupin made sure to keep them at a short distance. The wardrobe wobbled and Heather instinctively grabbed onto Harry’s arm, squeezing tight. He shook her off and laughed with the other students who hadn’t jumped.

“Don’t worry, class. There’s only a boggart in there.” Professor Lupin pounded on the wardrobe and it wobbled even harder.

Hermione gasped and Heather realized several other students looked just as worried. Ron and Neville had backed away and it seemed like half the class was ready to run to the opposite side of the room as the doorknob rattled furiously. Heather hadn’t read through the textbook yet, only skimmed it, and cursed herself, realizing Hermione had already done lots of studying.

“Boggarts live in closed, dark places.” Professor Lupin stood in front of the doors as the boggart inside pounded at them. The class seemed to relax a bit. “They are found in the gaps beneath beds, in the back of drawers, the cupboards under sinks, and in vents… as well as rarely used wardrobes.” He smiled as the wardrobe thumped at the mention. “This one arrived just yesterday. I’ve been given permission to keep it for this demonstration and so… here we are.

“Who knows what a boggart is?”

Heather saw Hermione’s hand shoot up into the air and stuck her own arm up. Professor Lupin pointed the back of his wand at Heather and Hermione huffed.

“It’s a shapeshifter.”

Professor Lupin nodded. “Yes. Anything else?”

She gulped. “Um…”

Hermione’s arm shot up again. “It takes the shape of whatever it senses will frighten its victim most!”

Heather’s face went red and she tried not to glare at Hermione.

“Yes. Wonderfully put.”

Hermione smiled brightly at Professor Lupin’s words and Heather rolled her eyes.

“This boggart has not yet assumed any form in the darkness inside here. It does not take shape until presented with someone before it. That’s why no one knows what a boggart really looks like. In the original text of discovery, the poor wizard who found one believed boggarts to all look like his uncle – ”

The class broke out in laughter.

Professor Lupin smiled. “The second I let it out however, it will take form as best it can to one fears at a time.” He ignored Neville’s terrified sputter and looked at Harry. “We do have one advantage, however… Harry, can you figure it out?”

Harry looked at Hermione’s arm waving in the air. “Er… Well… there’s too many of us? If it only turns into one fear at a time… Then it would have a hard time deciding which one to take?”

“Excellent, Harry. Very good.”

Heather crossed her arms at Harry, seeing he was already receiving some sort of special treatment, but he only rolled his eyes at her, clearly pleased with himself. It had been an easy question anyways.

“Always deal with boggarts among company. Best case scenario it becomes the mash-up of multiple fears and turns into something ridiculous and amusing. And that brings me to the charm made to deal with boggarts. Very simple in theory. You picture something that amuses you, use the charm, and force it to assume that shape.

“Let’s practice – wandless of course… Riddikulus!” Professor Lupin motioned for the class to repeat it and they did. “Perfect. Now, Neville – ”

Neville made a noise again but made his way forward, trembling as hard as the wardrobe. Professor Lupin turned him around to face the class and with every thump Neville jumped.

“Neville, what shape will the boggart take for you? In other words: what frightens you most?” Professor Lupin leaned in to try to catch whatever thing Neville had whispered. “Louder please, Neville.”

Neville gulped and looked around, turning slightly pink again. “Professor Snape,” he croaked.

Everyone laughed and Neville smiled apologetically, shrugging.

Professor Lupin chuckled, “He is quite frightful. Let’s see… You live with your grandmother correct?” Neville nodded and he continued. “Then I’ve got the perfect idea.” He leaned in and whispered something in Neville ear.

Neville snorted and nodded, turning around to face the wardrobe with his wand out.

Professor Lupin positioned Neville’s arm up higher and straighter. “Remember, when it takes shape think of what I told you and say ‘Riddikulus’. Concentrate.” He walked up to the wardrobe and pointed at Neville. “Everyone else form a line behind him. After he performs the charm the boggart will take the shape of the next person and so on. Keep the line formed and going. Please have a clear image of how to make your fear comical before it is your turn at the front.”

Professor Lupin motioned Neville and the line further back and held his wand out pointed at the doorknob. He flicked his wand and sparks shot out, hitting the knob and the door flung open revealing only darkness. Everyone gasped and quieted down, waiting.

From within the darkness Professor Snape’s hooked nose emerged first into the light. His menacing face became visible as he stepped out of the wardrobe onto the hard floor. His dark eyes flashed at the sight of Neville and he sneered, looking ready to chew him out. Professor Snape made to step forward furiously and Neville backed away, holding his arm up straight.

“R-R-Riddikulus! R-Riddikulus!” Neville shut his eyes. “Riddikulus!”

CRACK

Professor Snape stumbled backwards, now wearing a long green dress with fluffy brown fur on the cuffs and collar. A large sun hat with a beat-up vulture covered most of his long black hair that was now put up in a low bun. He steadied himself and clutched onto a large red handbag, glaring at Neville.

The class erupted with laughter except for the few Slytherins in the room. Heather crossed her arms and frowned. She didn’t think it was very fair to be making fun of someone else like that, especially if they weren’t in the room… Even if the real Professor Snape had been quite rude earlier during potions.

“Excellent! Next!” Professor Lupin chuckled.

The next student’s boggart turned into a small bandaged mummy, moaning and shuffling forward.

“Riddikulus!”

CRACK.

The mummy’s foot bandages tied into a bow and it fell forward on its face, causing more laughter. Next it turned into a banshee, with sickly green skin and long skeletal limbs. Harry’s dormmate, Seamus, waved his wand and yelled the charm, CRACK, turning it into a fat rat. Next Dean went forward and the boggart turned into a severed hand, crawling towards him. CRACK. It was now trapped in a small wired cage. Several more students went, happily enjoying the fright and laughter of the exercise.

Hermione pushed Heather forward who in turn pushed Harry who pushed Ron. Ron pushed them back and raised his wand, ready for the boggart.

The bogart turned into a giant hungry spider like the ones they met in the forbidden forest. The whole class screamed and it seemed to get stronger.

Ron raised his wand up at it and gulped. He closed his eyes. “Riddikulus!”

CRACK.

The spider jumped and fell on its back, tottering back and forth with no legs to help it up. It tried it’s best to right itself and ended up rolling closer to the front of the line. Harry raised his wand but before the boggart could change into anything, Professor Lupin jumped in front.

The legless spider spun and a white orb rose into the air above their heads. Professor Lupin waved his wand lazily and after a CRACK, a red balloon zoomed into the wardrobe. Sparks shot out of his wand and the door closed with a click. The doors rattled violently but the boggart was once again trapped inside.

“Great. I think we’re done for now.” Professor Lupin walked up to the front. “I’ll give… five points to everyone who participated, five more for Neville for going first, ten for Harry and Hermione for answering my questions.” He looked at Heather, “And five for Heather as well.” He smiled at the class, “Class dismissed and don’t forget your things back in the classroom.”

Hermione’s hand shot up, “You forgot about homework!”

“Hermione!” Ron groaned.

Professor Lupin chuckled, “Thank you. Yes. Read the chapter on boggarts… and write me a summary. To be handed in next class before we continue with round two.”

Heather raised her hand as well and waited to be called on. “What length?”

“Any. Just make the summaries good.”

The class cheered and left the staffroom as the bells rang. The Excitement carried all the way back to the classroom as everyone talked about their boggarts, especially Neville’s. Heather wished she had gotten a chance at one, but she was also glad for it. She didn’t want to think about what it could have been, and only knew whatever it was she would have turned it into Fang attempting to catching snowflakes.

“You two need to learn to keep quiet.” Ron was still upset about missing out on no homework.

“She started it.” Heather looked away from Hermione.

“It’s only a summary, Ron. That’s easy.”

Harry laughed. “He did say any length. We could turn in a sentence then.”

Ron cheered up at that. “Hermione I bet yours would have turned into a test with a score of nine out of ten.” He laughed and turned to Heather, “And a tiny spider for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “No. It would have been an even bigger spider than yours. A massive one.”

They headed to the library and got started on their homeworks. Ron and Harry attempted their one sentence summary but couldn’t manage to cut it down to under four. After several hours they parted ways to put their things away in their dorms.

Heather met them at the bottom of Gryffindor tower and headed to dinner together. They were coming down the entrance hall steps when Draco called to Harry from above. He was smiling, still clinging to his arm in a sling.

“Heard your boggart turned into a dementor, Potter. And Weasley here had to catch you when you fainted.”

Draco said it loud enough for other students to hear and stare at Harry, trying to contain their laughter. Harry went red and before Ron could yell back at him, Hermione was dragging them down. Heather shook her head at Draco and followed them into the great hall where she found a seat at her table and sat down, waiting for Draco to eventually sit down next to her.

“And what was yours? A second-place trophy?” Draco sat down followed by his goons.

Heather ignored him.

Pansy came skipping over and sat down across from Draco, giving Heather a quick glance. “Draco I’m sure your boggart will be truly terrifying tomorrow!”

“What would it be?” Heather imagined it’d be his father with his back turned to him or a little muggle girl asking for directions.

“Probably a giant man-eating dragon or something. Or fifty volcanic trolls.” He stabbed his meat slice with a fork using his slinged arm and started cutting with his other.

Heather rolled her eyes. Maybe she should figure out what her boggart would be in case it was very embarrassing. If she knew what it was, then she could just change her fear and avoid any unnecessary embarrassment, especially if Pansy was going to potentially find out about it.

She made a mental note to find out before the next boggart class, even if it meant sneaking into the staffroom at night. She looked over at Fred and George, wondering if they’d lend her their map. Although they’d probably want in on what she was doing, and she wasn’t too sure she could trust them with any secret that had the potential to be used as a prank.

If she asked Harry for the cloak he’d ask too many questions too. Would he even lend it to her? It was theirs after all. So why did he get to keep it on him constantly? She blinked and shook her head. Too much was going on in her mind to enjoy dessert. She got ready to stand up and leave when she spotted a vanilla pudding topped with whipped cream and sweet cherries. She sighed and figured she could do her best to put off thinking for at least one tiny scoop.

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	13. A Helping Hand

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It was Friday morning and Heather was already up early before the rest of her house, and probably the rest of the school. All night long she had been twisting and turning with fear that her boggart would be incredibly embarrassing. She knew it would spread like wildfire if it was, much like Neville’s boggart. Already all of the Slytherins were talking about it and she didn’t doubt all of the Gryffindors were too.

The sun wasn’t out yet and the ground floor corridor of the staffroom was still dimly lit from the four or so torches at the ends. She didn’t have time to wait for the sun to rise and shine through the castle windows. She looked down the dungeon steps, keeping her ears tuned to the silence. Professor Snape was not – at least not currently – lurking in the shadows below.

She turned back. It was a clear shot to the staffroom. She un-crouched and ran to the wall the staffroom door was on and crept forward, passed the library doors, looking in for Madam Pince who also appeared not to be an early bird. The gargoyles were still asleep with brows furrowed. She opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her and turning on her wand light. The staffroom was completely empty except for a handful of armchairs, a couch, and the wardrobe at the very back.

She walked up to the wardrobe and knocked. It wobbled, scaring her back before she composed herself and reached for the knob. All she had to do was pull it open, see what her boggart was, say the charm, and leave. That was simple. The wardrobe thumped loudly and the doors rattled, making her doubt how good of an idea this was.

“Harry could do this.” She nodded and steadied her shaking hand. “Harry has faced Voldemort three times now… I can face a silly boggart.”

At her words the doors rattled more violently, as if insulted. She gripped the knob and turned it but the door wouldn’t pull out. She tried the other door but the doors wouldn’t budge. The wardrobe was unlocked but closed with a seal. She needed the spell that produced sparks and opened the doors. She dropped her hands and cursed to herself.

She didn’t think Professor Lupin just had the counter spell laying around his office. He knew it nonverbally. She groaned and kicked at the ground, slowly heading back over to the staffroom door. She poked her head out and listened for any echoed steps or tiny pitter patters. Whatever time it was now, the whole castle was asleep.

This time she didn’t creep along the wall on her way back. She stopped at the library and out of curiosity pulled on the doors, hearing them creak open. She looked around and pulled them further, stepping into the eerily dark library. There was no Madam Pince to give her a menacing welcome glare as she walked past her desk. Heather headed to the back door where she served detention in and slipped in.

“So dusty,” she coughed. She spotted the large wood door in the back and ran to it, gripping the doorknob. “Please be open!” It was not. The door thumped as she pulled, locked in place. She stepped back and rubbed her hands together. “Knox.” She held out her wand at the doorknob and started down the list of charms she knew. “Alohomora, Recludo, Decierra, Resero!” Nothing.

She sighed. She should head back before people started waking up. The last thing she wanted was to get caught and have to serve another detention in here repairing old books. She was halfway out the door when she turned and held her wand out. “Aparecium?”

There was a green glow along the edges of the large door. It seemed to morph and the hinges appeared on the other side while the door knob shriveled away and regrew on the opposite side. She ran back and pulled the door open, turning on her wand light.

There were books of all sizes on shelves inside. It was a secret book closet. She pulled out a small book off the middle shelf and flipped through it. “‘Banned Herbs and Ivies’.” She set it down on the table and pulled out several more. “‘Transfigurations for Inspection’, ‘Prohibited Potions’?” These were all books of things outlawed by the Ministry, with no seal of approval on any of the spines.

Were these the types of books Draco’s father had in his library? They weren’t dark arts stuff though. She rearranged the shelves to look like no books had been taken out and scooped up the ones she had already. She closed the door and watched it morph back to its mirrored self.

She was out the door and down the corridor towards the great hall, bounding down to the second Slytherin house entrance as far away from Professor Snape’s office as possible. She whispered the password and headed down the steps into the common room, finally able to catch her breath.

Her heart was beating out of her chest and she couldn’t believe what she’d done. This was certainly expulsion worthy. She jumped as a first year Slytherin coughed at one of the desks and quickly headed back to her room, making sure to keep the books as hidden as possible incase her dormmates were awake at all. She lifted her mattress and stuffed the books at the foot end of her bed, not wanting to risk Pansy going through her trunk again.

The rest of the day went by agonizingly slow. Every break she excused herself from her friends to check the books were still in place and every time a professor looked her way she froze, sure they had caught her. She was nearly sick when Professor McGonagall asked her to her office, only to find out she was asking if Harry was still ok after the dementor encounter.

“Heather?”

She jumped and turned back around to face Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were sitting outside in the courtyard doing essays. It was Saturday morning now and she was still terrified she was yet to be caught.

“Why are you so jumpy?” Harry was crossing his arms, knowing she acted like that when she was worried about a secret she shouldn’t know.

“Oh. It’s nothing.” She turned back as footsteps grew louder, but it was only Marcus walking passed.

“You’re as bad as Hermione,” Ron grumbled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione opened her book back up and continued her ancient runes essay. “If Heather says its nothing that its nothing. And I don’t care how many times you ask; I’m managing my way just fine.”

“No. You know a secret. What is it?” Harry shook Heather’s arm. “Tell us!”

What could she say? She couldn’t tell them about the books, they’d want to read them and who knows what those spells would do. And she couldn’t tell them her only other secret. They’d kill her. She opened her mouth, willing more ideas forward until she remembered what she’d found out from Professor Snape.

“Marcus is holding full team tryouts today, and he doesn’t know me or Draco know. They’re later tonight.”

“Already? Quidditch season isn’t until October. And isn’t he only missing one player?”

“Harry,” she crossed her arms at him, “Unlike you, I’m not a beloved Quidditch player. I have to actually work to stay on the team.”

Harry’s face went red. “I work at it too!”

“I didn’t see you train once this summer.”

“Neither did you!”

Heather looked away, forgetting he wouldn’t know she had trained for a full week with Draco. “Right. But I’ve been working out, which counts.”

Ron laughed, “You? Working out?”

“Ron! Don’t be rude!” Hermione tried to hold in her laugh.

Heather scoffed and stood. “Well I HAVE been!” She picked up her stuff and headed to lunch, grumbling the whole way. She tensed her arm and poked at it, feeling what she thought was some muscle, though she wouldn’t really know for sure. She had been working out for two months almost and her arms didn’t look any bigger than when she first started.

She found Draco and sat down next to him. “How’re you supposed to do tryouts with your arm still in that thing?”

He set down his fork and clutched his arm tight. “Gee, I don’t know if I can, Potter.”

“Heather! You know he’s hurt!” Pansy placed her hand over Draco’s, “Are you ok?”

Draco nodded and looked back at Heather. “I’ll be there though. Don’t worry about that.”

She figured that was code for ‘I’ll just take off the sling and play’, which was fine with her. Maybe she should invite Harry to watch so they could catch him playing just fine with his arm. Not like that would help with anything since Draco could just say they’re lying.

“So, how’re you thinking of beating Warrington and Montague?”

Heather nearly choked on her juice. She had completely forgotten she had a plan for one of them. She stood up and looked for Fred and George. They weren’t at lunch. She left the table and headed up to Gryffindor tower and knocked on the fat lady.

Neville opened the door and stepped out. “You looking for Harry?”

“I need to talk to Fred and George.”

He shook his head, “They’re not here.”

She nodded and headed back down the steps, finding it incredibly harder to breath. She had forgotten to talk to them yesterday. Now how was she going to get one of the chasers to not show up for tryouts? She couldn’t compete against them… she wasn’t strong enough yet. She got off on a random floor and sat down on a bench, covering her face with her hands. She wasn’t going to make it into the Quidditch team this year.

Someone cleared their throat next to her. Her head shot up and Professor Lupin was standing there looking down at her awkwardly.

“Curious that you’d be placed in Slytherin house while Harry was placed in Gryffindor.”

Heather nodded, “We aren’t that similar.”

“No. I suppose you’re not…” He sat down next to her on the bench. “Is everything alright? You seemed bothered.”

Heather looked down at his tattered robes and shrugged. “I may not make it onto the Quidditch team this year.”

“Oh? Why not? You were on it last year, I heard.” He smiled but his eyes were distant. He was looking a lot better than when he was on the train with them. He’d gained some wait and his cheeks no longer looked hollow.

“Last year no one really showed up for tryouts. This year Cassius Warrington and Graham Montague are trying out as Chasers and… well I was hoping one of them wouldn’t make it to tryouts…” She was hoping Fred and George had more of last year’s sleeping potion.

“Chaser? Why not Seeker? Your d-brother is Seeker. I’m sure you’d be just as great as he – ”

Heather stood up and started pacing. “No. Harry is Seeker and I hate being compared to him. Everyone always compares me to him so I want to be good at something different. I’m a lot better than him in a lot of things but no one notices because he’s ‘The Boy Who Lived’.”

He seemed to flinch at the mention of Harry’s title. He glanced away and chuckled, looking back at her. “Oh, believe me, I know what that feels like.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s hard being someone’s shadow – of course I wouldn’t know what it’d be like to be my sibling’s shadow – but I do know how hard it can be at times.”

Heather sat back down, “Who were you the shadow of?”

He smiled. “A friend. He was very popular without even meaning to – well, that’s not true. He definitely meant to be popular – I guess he just didn’t really need to try. I, on the other hand, had to try very hard – much harder. And sometimes it never felt enough.”

Heather nodded and leaned back against the wall. “That’s how it feels. Everyone loves him even though we’ve been through the same stuff… kinda. And he doesn’t try.”

Professor Lupin stood up. “Who was it you were hoping wouldn’t show to tryouts? I may have a few tasks I need help with,” he winked.

Heather thought for a moment. “Warrington.”

His mustached smile pulled up into a grin. “Ah, what a coincidence. I believe I have some words for him about his essay he turned in yesterday.” He started down the hall, leaving Heather smiling on the stone bench.

Hours later, after dinner, she was standing on the Quidditch pitch next to Graham. It was getting dark and Marcus was pacing in front of them with his hands behind his back, looking out into the grassy lawns for any sign of Cassius. The minutes went by and Heather’s smile was growing as Marcus’ frown deepened.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s begin.”

They went through the same drills as last year but harder. Graham threw the Quaffle with his full force at her, bruising her arms and ribs, and chin at one point. Tryouts were awful, and she knew she’d hardly be able to walk tomorrow, but the look of surprise on Marcus’ face when they showed up and better yet when Cassius didn’t was worth the pain.

She threw the Quaffle a lot farther and straighter than last year, and she didn’t drop it once. Her sweat dripped down her face and the cold wind stung her eyes but she did it. She pulled through. She ended the Chaser tryouts and touched down next to Graham.

“Nice tryouts,” Graham muttered and left the pitch.

She nodded and turned to Draco. “Good luck.”

“Won’t need it,” he smirked and handed her his sling.

Draco took off and Heather watched him pull off the Seeker drills against one other person who had the same problems Draco had last year. This time Draco wasn’t wobbly and never swerved when he looked behind him or to the side, keeping a straight line to the snitch.

She watched Marcus who didn’t seem as angry as when they started. Draco touched back down and they both stayed to watch the Beater tryouts, not too interested in who would take the spots. She handed him his sling back and they decided to leave.

“Did you have something to do with Warrington not showing up?”

Heather shook her head and hid her smile. “No. I didn’t do anything.”

They were heading up the lawn when Cassius and Professor Snape exited the castle entrance, both looking very mean. The four of them came to a halt and Professor Snape stared her down.

“Am I to assume you tried out?” Professor Snape’s voice was bordering on being venomous.

Heather and Draco nodded.

“And I suppose you think you’ve made it onto the team, since Warrington never made it.” Professor Snape stared into her eyes with a piercing intensity.

“Well,” she swallowed, “There were only two spots open… and only Graham and I – ”

He gave her a sickly smile. “Don’t think you’ve made the team just yet. Potter. See, Warrington was – mistakenly – held up. Something I will make sure Flint understands.”

Warrington smirked and the both of them continued down.

“What did you do?” Draco was laughing.

“Nothing.” She watched them enter the Quidditch pitch and turned back.

They continued into the castle and split off. She headed to the library to meet up with Hermione, Harry, and Ron. They were sitting in the back and waved to her as she entered. Harry and Hermione ran to her, excited to know how she’d done.

“Fine… Cassius didn’t show up so I should get the spot…” She sat down and drummed her fingers on the table. “But then he did after it was over…”

“Then you did it,” Ron tried to reassure her. “If tryouts were over then he couldn’t try out.”

Hermione had also noticed her mood. “It’s in the rules.”

“But Professor Snape went down with him.”

Harry groaned loudly, earning an angry shushing from Madam Pince. “What’s he got against us! He just wants Heather not on the team.”

“Oh Harry, why would he want that. She’s a Slytherin.”

“Because she’s a Potter. And he hates me.”

Heather scoffed, “Not everything is about you.” They were all silent for a while and Heather got up. “I’m going to bed early. I’m tired and it’s almost curfew.”

She left and headed down the dungeon stairs, thinking about how Marcus was probably relieved to give Cassius a chance. Anything to not have her on the team. She wouldn’t be as good, and she was smaller, and not as strong. All she had going for her was her speed. Maybe she should have tried out as Seeker and just deal with being the second-best Seeker in the school after Harry.

She entered the common room and saw that Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were at a desk in the back, laughing at whatever stupid thing Draco had said. Pansy was with her friends on the opposite side of the room chatting away. She thought about what Professor Lupin had said, about trying harder to be popular.

She lived as Harry’s shadow, but in her own house she also felt she was a shadow of Draco and Pansy. They weren’t friends, but they talked often, and she also talked to most of their friends without really being friends with anyone. She was just as known as them, but she was not popular at all.

She sighed and headed into the girl’s dorms to take a long bath in one of the cramped tubs. She made sure to actually untangle her hair as she washed it for once. After toweling off and dressing she brushed through her hair again and put it in braids before heading to bed.

If she didn’t make it onto the Quidditch team she’d focus on something else. Something more than just grades. The only friends she had were all Gryffindors, so maybe she could start being friends with her own housemates… the good ones at least – or… the ones who didn’t hate muggles.

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	14. The Smoking Goblet

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Within the month Defense Against Dark Arts class had become every student’s favorite class, and Professor Lupin everyone’s favorite teacher. Even Heather had to give in and accept him as her favorite after he’d let her sneak her way to the back of every line when they practiced with boggarts. She made up for it during their Red Cap lessons, allowing him to use her for demonstrations around the little nasty creatures that liked hanging out wherever blood was spilled.

Draco, however, couldn’t miss a day to snicker behind Professor Lupin’s back about the state of his robes. Most Slytherins friends with Draco would join in on the bullying, but Professor Lupin and most everyone else would just ignore them. No one cared if Professor Lupin’s robes were old and frayed with patches that were coming undone, or that his clothes had little holes at the seams around his shoulders and cuffs.

From Red Caps they moved onto kappas, more creepy creatures except they lived underwater with webbed hands used for strangling those who wandered in their pond. He had brought in a murky tank with a single lilypad floating on top of the muck. The kappa had given Neville a real scare after he’d tapped the glass and woken it up.Everyone had laughed at Neville, but that was nothing compared to the torment he was facing in potions with Professor Snape.

After word had spread about Neville’s boggart, Professor Snape had been judging people’s potions harder than he ever had before. Heather was feeling like a total failure in potions now, and Neville could barely breath with Professor Snape breathing down his neck, making sure he was following the steps exactly as he had written them out.

Professor Snape assigned extra inches to the essays he had been assigning every class time at the mention of Professor Lupin’s name or boggarts in general, except to Draco and his band of loyal Slytherins who very publicly and shamed Professor Lupin at every opportunity.

It was very hard for Heather not to accept Professor Lupin had become her favorite teacher, and Defense Against the Dark Arts her favorite class.

Along with potions, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures were becoming everyone’s least favorite classes. The only people who liked Divination were the very few students who seemed to have ‘the Sight’ for it and constantly joined Professor Trelawney in extra readings and work during breakfast and lunchtime. A couple of Ravenclaws were now giving people readings and few Hufflepuffs giving others friendly warnings. The two Gryffindor girls Heather now knew as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had taken it upon themselves to give Harry advice every now and then to help him with his death omen. Heather found those two particularly annoying, more annoying than the only Slytherin giving out death omens.

Care of Magical Creatures was disliked in a very different way. Everyone who was friendly with Hagrid had to pretend to like learning about the very boring magical creatures known as flobberworms. Ron especially hated the flobberworms, reminding him of the slimy slugs he had upchucked last year after his failed hex.

Before the month of September ended, Draco and Heather received the very wonderful news that they had made it onto their team again. It turned out Marcus was stricter than even Professor Snape when it came to being captain of the Quidditch team. After giving Cassius a chance to try out with the beaters, he’d told him on the spot he didn’t make it and that next time he should ignore any teacher who got in the way of Quidditch.

Unfortunately, this meant Cassius was now extremely mad at Heather and had made a few attempts at cornering her in the common room but she had successfully dodged him and clung onto the unknowing Draco and Pansy for safety.

On the first day of October Marcus had called their first Quidditch team practice, telling them their new schedules and going over new tactics he’d thought of over the summer. Four times a week they met up to practice which just about killed Heather every day. Her muscles were so sore and tired constantly, she was going to bed at Dudley hours.

“No,” she groaned. She had been laying on the grass just outside the locker rooms waiting for Draco to come out.

He was standing over her with his arms crossed telling her to get up. “Let’s go already, Potter.”

She groaned as she sat up and held up her hand for assistance, which of course Draco ignored, choosing instead to nudge her with his foot. She stood and they walked together to the broom shed, talking about the most recent play they had practiced.

“They’ll have a hard time getting around us that way.”

Draco nodded. “The Quidditch cup is easy. We’re already the best in the school. It’s the House Cup that’s hard.” He looked at her with a frown, no doubt thinking about exactly why the House Cup was so hard to earn.

“I don’t control who Dumbledore gives free points to at the end of the year.” The grassy slopes were pushing Heather’s legs to their limit and all she wanted was to collapse on the ground again.

“You can control your stupid brother and his friends. Make sure they don’t do anything heroic that will give them any points.” Draco rubbed is hands together and gave her a sly look, “And I’ll make sure the Gryffindors lose as many points as possible.”

As they reached the castle entrance, Heather’s guilt was eating at her. She didn’t feel very good about being a part of Draco’s plan to lose the Gryffindors their points. It seemed extra mean, but she had stopped telling him off ever since they became ‘friends’ after Cassius tried hexing her in the charms corridor.

“And how will you do that?”

He shrugged. “I’ll think of something.” He slid his sling back on his arm as they went the long way to their common room, down the dungeon stairs passed Professor Snape’s office door.

They turned a corner and Heather almost smacked right into Professor Snape again, making her stumble back. He looked down at her and frowned. She could feel the hatred emanating off him. He looked at Draco and stepped aside.

“Draco, your father has asked me how your arm is doing.”

Draco clutched his arm. “It’s healing up, Sir,” he grinned.

Professor Snape raised his eyebrow, “Still in pain?”

Draco nodded. “It’s hard to reach for the Snitch during practices without feeling how much it hurts,” he pet his arm, “but I power through it.”

Professor Snape gave a slight smile. “How admirable. I’ll let your father know of the lasting damage you’re dealing with.” He frowned at Heather one last time and swept away into his office.

“Why was he coming from the common room?”

Draco shrugged, whispering the password and stepping in. Heather followed and saw the large giddy crowd that had formed around the notice board. Draco pushed people aside and Heather followed close behind him until she could see the paper that had just been pinned up.

The first Hogsmeade visit was October thirty-first all day until dinner time. Her shoulders slumped and she pushed her way back out and sat in one of the cushion puffs by the fire, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. She stared at the fire for a few minutes, trying to think of any way to get permission to go, but none that didn’t involve speaking to Professor Snape.

The next morning she was still moping next to Ron who was also extremely quiet during all of Herbology. She held the puffapod mouths open while he pulled out the pink sacs and handed them to Harry to squeeze the glass beans into Hermione’s wooden pail.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. “How’s Scabbers doing, Ron?”

“He’s hiding under the bed, shaking, after your stupid cat nearly gutted him.” He threw the sac a little too hard, missing Harry’s hand.

The pink sac burst on the floor and the glass beans started sprouting immediately on the little bit of dirt and dust on the floor.

“Weasley!” Professor Sprout cried out. “Clean that up before they grow lips!”

They headed to Transfigurations in silence and were about to line up when Parvati pushed aside a couple of Hufflepuffs to make room for a crying Lavender to come through. She was wiping her tears on her sweater while Seamus walked beside her, nodding at the muffled words she was saying.

Heather followed them as they joined the growing group of concerned Gryffindors around Lavender, Parvati, and Seamus.

“Lavender? What’s wrong?” Hermione put her hand on her shoulder.

Lavender shook her head and Parvati started explaining what had happened.

“She just got a letter from her parents. Her rabbit, Binky’s, been killed by a fox.”

Hermione looked back at them and bit her lip before turning back. “That’s awful. I’m sorry about that.”

“She was right! I should have known!” Lavender sobbed very loudly.

Harry gave Heather a weary look and poked Hermione on the back.

“Er… Who was right?”

Lavender looked up at Hermione like she was missing the big picture. “Professor Trelawney! Its October sixteenth! She said the thing I would be dreading the most would happen today! I was dreading Binky dying and now it’s happened!”

Harry crossed his arms.

“Was Binky old?” Hermione couldn’t help pushing on despite Ron, Harry, and Heather trying to pull her back.

“No. He was… Only a baby!” she sobbed into Parvati’s shoulder.

“So then why were you dreading him dying?”

“Hermione!” Heather whispered, trying to get her attention.

Parvati glared at her and Seamus was shaking his head.

Hermione turned to everyone. “I just mean that he didn’t really die today. You’ve only just received the news of his passing. And you’re clearly in shock so it’s not like you were really dreading it too much – ”

Parvati gasped and Lavender glared at her behind watery eyes.

Ron pulled Hermione back and stepped in. “Don’t mind Hermione. Other people’s pets don’t matter very much to her.”

Hermione and Ron stared daggers at one another when the class door opened. They filtered in and Hermione took her seat at the front while Ron kept them in the back. The lesson went by like normal and before they knew it the bells were ringing and the lesson had come to an end.

“Excuse me,” Professor McGonagall held them up. “Gryffindors please stay seated.”

Everyone else filtered out and Heather decided to stay put as well.

“Please make sure to turn in your Hogsmeade forms before the thirty-first. No signature, no visiting the village.”

Neville’s hand floated up. “I-I think I’ve lost my – ”

“Your grandmother has already owled it to me.”

“Oh.” Neville went red.

“Ask her now,” Ron whispered to Harry as the Gryffindors were getting up.

“Ask her what?” Heather turned to Harry and frowned. “No! Don’t leave me here alone.”

Harry stood and looked at her gloomily. “It’s the only way to go.”

“Without me?” Heather stayed seated and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t go without you!”

“He has to go! Its Hogsmeade Village!” Ron looked desperate. “I don’t wanna go alone!”

Hermione was standing behind them now. “You’ll manage just fine, Ron.”

Heather turned to her. “Does that mean you’re staying with me?”

Hermione looked away and wrung the strap of her bag. “Oh, well… Actually I was going to still go – ”

Heather rolled her eyes and turned to watch Professor McGonagall shake her head at Harry who sulked back to them.

“At least we still have the feast,” Hermione smiled.

They all glared at her and exited the classroom.

Halloween rolled around and Heather joined Harry in the Great Hall for mushy oats as Hermione and Ron assured them they’d bring back loads of sweets for them. They accompanied Hermione and Ron to the front entrance and watched them line up to leave. Mr. Filch was checking off names and Malfoy noticed them as they left.

“Hey, Potter!” he called out. “Not going? Afraid of passing the dementors?”

Several people laughed and all they could do was walk away. They decided to head to the library but got bored quickly, being just the two of them and needing to stay extra quiet because of Madam Pince.

“This is boring.” Harry scribbled tiny circles on the corner of his textbook. “Let’s go visit Hedwig or something.”

They got up and left, bumping into Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris halfway down the entrance hall steps.

“And where do you think you two are going?” He bared his teeth at them.

“The owlry.” Harry replied curtly.

“The owlry,” Mr. Filch spat back. “Can’t fool me! Think I don’t know what you two are up to? Turn around and head back to your common rooms where you belong!” Mrs. Norris hissed as if to emphasize his command.

They turned around and headed up the stairs, getting off at a random floor and walking down the corridor with their heads hung low and arms crossed. They passed by several classrooms and kept walking until their names were called.

“Harry? Heather?”

They turned around and saw Professor Lupin leaning out of his office looking at them.

“Where are Hermione and Ron? You’re all usually together.”

Harry sighed, “Hogsmeade.”

Heather nodded, “We couldn’t get our permission slips signed.”

Professor Lupin nodded and drummed his fingers on the doorframe. “Why don’t you two come in? You can see the grindylow I just had delivered for next week.”

“The what?” Harry looked at Heather.

“Don’t you ever read ahead?” She shook her head at Harry who stuck out his tongue at her after Professor Lupin had disappeared back into his office.

They followed him in and looked at the creature in the tank behind Professor Lupin’s desk. It was sickly green and had long spindly fingers and sharp horns on its head. It made faces at them from behind the glass.

“Heather, why don’t you inform your brother on what this creature is.”

Heather smiled down at Harry who had taken the only seat. “It’s a water demon. They live in bogs and lakes and grip onto things very tight. Unless you want to be dragged down and drowned, you need to break it’s grip, literally. They have very brittle fingers,” she wiggled her fingers and looked back at Professor Lupin.

He smiled, “Precisely, Heather. Five points to.. Slytherin.”

She smiled and stuck her tongue out at Harry as Professor Lupin turned around to make them some tea. She watched him set the kettle next to the tank on some cleared off table space and tapped it with his wand. Steam shot out of it like an explosion, ready to serve.

“I figure you’re both tired of tea leaves, so how’s tea bags? Harry?”

Harry nodded, “How did you know about – ”

“Professor McGonagall told me about it,” he handed them each their teacups. “Not worried about all that, are you, Harry?”

Harry shook his head and looked up at Heather who knew exactly what he was thinking. She shook her head slightly and sipped her tea. The last thing Harry should do is go around saying he saw a death omen back home.

Professor Lupin saw their exchange and asked again. “You sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

“No.” Harry sipped his tea and then set it down on his desk. “Actually…”

Heather looked down at him.

“When we were doing the boggart exercises, I never got to practice… You stopped the lessons just before it was my turn.”

Professor Lupin pressed his lips together and nodded slowly.

“Why?” Harry pressed on.

He gave a small chuckle, “Well in all honesty I thought it’d cause a panic if Voldemort suddenly materialized in the classroom…” He looked at Harry’s surprised face. “Would it not have turned into Voldemort?”

Heather was surprised to hear him say Voldemort’s name so casually. Everyone else seemed to be too afraid to. She looked down at Harry intrigued.

He shook his head. “I thought of Voldemort at first… But then I remembered that… dementor… from the train and…”

She hadn’t realized Harry was actually afraid of the dementors. To her it was just something stupid Draco was saying, but maybe he had picked up on it better than Heather had. If that was the case, Draco was a lot more dangerous of a bully than she had previously thought.

“I’m impressed,” Professor Lupin set his tea down.

“Impressed?” Heather echoed.

“Dementors are nothing compared to Voldemort. So, fearing the dementors only shows you’re afraid of fear itself. That’s very wise, Harry. A true Gryffindor.”

Harry beamed.

Heather wasn’t quite understanding what was so brave about fearing what had clearly spooked him on the train. She was afraid of spiders and they are nothing compared to Voldemort, does that make her brave too? She felt Harry was just getting more special treatment and retreated to behind his chair, annoyed.

“You must have been thinking I didn’t believe you brave enough to face your boggart then?” Professor Lupin gave a weak smile.

Harry shrugged, “Well I just… Yeah…”

There was a sharp knock on the door.

“Come in,” Professor Lupin called out.

The door opened and Professor Snape stood in the doorway, looking at Heather and Harry with a frown. He was holding a large goblet very carefully to his chest, which smoked faintly. His eyes narrowed at them as he turned to look at Professor Lupin.

“Severus. Thank you. You can just leave that here on the desk for me.” Professor Lupin cleared out an area and pointed at the spot expectantly.

Heather watched Professor Snape creep inside slowly, careful not to spill the liquid smoking inside the goblet. He stood back, facing them, and let his eyes wander over to her and Harry, glancing back at Professor Lupin.

Professor Lupin looked down at the goblet and back up at Professor Snape. “I was just showing them the grindylow.” He pointed at the tank behind him.

Professor Snape stood watching him. “Fascinating.” He kept watching him as Professor Lupin folded his hands in front of him. “You should drink it before the smoke’s gone out.”

Professor Lupin looked at them and back at Professor Snape. “Thank you, Severus. I will.”

“The rest of it is in the cauldron is in my office. I’ve made extra… should you need it.” Professor Snape continued standing there, eyeing him.

Heather’s curiosity was getting the better of her and she wanted to ask what the potion was, but she wasn’t sure how personal it was. She decided not to ask.

“Thank you – I’ll likely be taking more tomorrow – Again, thank you… Severus.”

Professor Snape’s brows pulled down in a frown again and his eyes glanced over at Heather and Harry again. “Not at all.”

Possibly the awkwardness had finally been too much because not soon after he backed out of the room, very watchful and unsmiling. Heather watched him reach for the doorknob without taking his eyes off Professor Lupin, until he started pulling the door closed when his eyes met hers before closing the door.

She had never seen Professor Snape like that, and there was something in his eyes that had urged her to ask about the potion, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to be rude in front of her new favorite teacher.

She looked down at the goblet and back up at Professor Lupin.

He smiled. “Professor Snape’s very kindly concocted my potion for me.” He laughed, “I’ve never been much of a brewer…” He picked up the goblet and sniffed it, shuddering. “If only sugar didn’t make it absolutely useless.”

Harry was on the edge of his seat as Professor Lupin drank the liquid, almost gagging. “But… Why?”

Professor Lupin set down the unfinished goblet. “Oh, I’ve just been feeling a bit… off color. And this is the only thing that helps with that. I’m very lucky Professor Snape works here, seeing as not many master potioneers would be up for making such a complex potion.

Heather was growing more intrigued. Was Professor Snape really that good? She suddenly regretted not trying as hard in his class lately, even if he was being particularly vindictive as of late.

“Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts!” Harry blurted out.

Heather stared down at him confused but he avoided her eyes and stared directly at the goblet that was still smoking on the desk.

Professor Lupin looked at Harry with an interest. “Really.”

Harry nodded, “Some people think… well – that he’d do anything to get the Defense Against Dark Arts position.”

Professor Lupin nodded, and drank the rest of the contents, banging the goblet down and trying not to make a face. “That was unpleasant.” He stood up and headed to the door, opening it. “I should get back to work. I’ll see you both at the feast later.”

“Alright.”

Heather pulled Harry up and dragged him out with her. Professor Lupin closed his door and she pulled him away.

“Why would you say that? You don’t know if he likes the dark arts? And so what if he wants the position? Maybe he really wants to teach everyone how to defend themselves!” She wasn’t sure why she was so heatedly defending Professor Snape who had spent the last two months yelling at every student, but she did feel something for any Slytherin constantly being painted as some horrible person.

Harry crossed his arms. “Snape’s evil. He could have poisoned that goblet then! Everyone hates him for a reason.”

Heather scoffed. “He’s my favorite teacher. And just because Voldemort was a Slytherin doesn’t make everyone else evil like him! …And Professor Lupin didn’t even care to believe you.”

“That’s because he doesn’t know him.”

She wanted to hit him and stormed away instead, heading down the stairs and to her common room.

She sat down on a cushion and crossed her arms and legs. She decided she wouldn’t let a few months of hard potions lessons change her mind, even if it was just to spite Harry. She had a few hours before dinner and decided to catch up on her potion studies at one of the desks.

“Only a few hours until Hermione and Ron come back with treats,” she told herself. “Just focus on the feast.” That calmed her down and she was able to get to studying just fine, pushing Harry out of her mind.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	15. Lupin, Black, Snape

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather made her way down to the great hall with everyone else from her common room. She turned a corner and spotted Ron and Hermione next to Harry, just up ahead. She ran over and joined them, searching their hands for any treats like they had promised.

“Oh, sorry! We left them in our common room. We’ll give you some later.”

All she could do was nod at Hermione and not let the disappointment get her down. “It’s ok. What are you guys talking about?”

Ron shook his head. “About how mad Lupin is. Harry told us he drank the potion.”

Heather glared at Harry. “It wasn’t poisoned!”

“Of course not.” Hermione lowered her voice. “He wouldn’t have done it in front of you two…”

Heather groaned.

They crossed the entrance hall and entered the great hall, admiring the decorations like every year. There were giant glittering pumpkins floating over their heads with candles lighting them from the inside. Bats swooped and fluttered above their heads, dodging the orange streamers hung all around.

Heather was too upset to sit next to Draco and Pansy, choosing instead to sit next to some fourth years down the middle of the table. She kept glancing at Harry who kept looking up at Professor Lupin throughout the meal, who was perfectly fine and happily enjoying the feast and talking to Professor Flitwick.

She wanted to ignore Harry and his rude assumptions, but when she caught sight of Professor Snape she saw him glancing over at Professor Lupin over and over again as he ate. Was he waiting for something? Checking on him? Professor Lupin had mentioned the potion was to help him feel better, but Professor Snape wasn’t the type to worry about someone’s health like that…

The feast ended with a performance of how the Bloody Baron and other ghosts died, finishing off with disappearing through tables and walls. Nearly headless Nick came back to hear the applause and Professor Dumbledore excused them to head back to their houses.

She caught up to Harry and rolled her eyes at the looks he was giving her.

“Explain why he kept looking over. Think he was that worried about Professor Lupin’s cold?” Harry crossed his arms as they left the entrance hall.

Heather sighed. “Maybe he actually DOES know him. Maybe they’re friends and he really is concerned for his friend’s wellbeing.”

Ron gave a breathy laugh. “Oh sure, as Snape’s known to do.”

Draco pushed through them and turned around as he walked across the corridor. “The dementors wanted me to tell you they send their love, Potter! They’re asking when you’ll visit!”

Several students around them laughed and Draco held his head up higher as he walked away with Crabbe and Goyle snickering behind him. Heather said goodnight to Ron, Harry, and Hermione and made her way across the castle and down the dungeon stairs and into her common room.

Her excuse for him was weak. She paced the back of the common room, trying to think of an explanation. Sure, he seemed scary and rude and hated most people at the school… But he was a professor… He wouldn’t risk going to Azkaban just for a position he wanted… Besides, wouldn’t he want to poison him after the year had ended, or at the very least first term? He’d still be in charge of teaching potions until Professor Dumbledore had the time to put out ads for potions professors…

She pulled out a random book from the giant towering book case in the back and looked up as the doors opened passed hours. It was none other than Professor Snape himself, looking very preoccupied with his thoughts. His eyes were distant and searching the floor as people gathered around him. His finger was curled and pressed to his lips as people waited for him to say something.

He finally looked up. “Everyone is to follow me to the great hall immediately. You have five minutes to change into your night clothes. Anyone left inside will serve six hours of detention in the potions classrooms with me, scrubbing the bottom of the seventh year cauldrons until they shine.”

He looked at everyone and a shiver ran through the crowd. Everyone left to change without another word. There was hushed whispered in every dorm and throughout the bathrooms about why they had to go to the great hall in their pajamas.

There was a lot of talk about trolls in the dungeons again, dementors checking their dorms, and of Sirius Black. Heather got dressed and went to get her potions guide and wand, tucking them away in her robe pockets. She didn’t really feel like walking around in JUST her pajamas and figured she’d use the robes as, well, robes.

She walked out into the common room and saw Professor Snape still standing where he had been, arms held behind his back as he stared down at the floor in thought. She looked at the line of ready Slytherins forming, all still whispering about what was happening.

She let her curiosity get the better of her and approached Professor Snape, being used to him constantly yelling at her and Harry already made asking him questions less daunting.

“Sir?”

His eyes flickered towards her but he said nothing.

She figured that meant he was listening and went on with the question. “Why are we heading to the great hall? Are we coming back after?”

He stood up straighter and scanned the large group of whispering students. He addressed them all. “The castle is to be searched – and all houses will be sleeping in the great hall tonight. That is all.”

He stared Heather down until she back up into the line. He turned and lead them out and up the main stairs that would spit them out next to the great hall. All the other houses were making their way inside, as confused as everyone else.

She wasn’t sure what she’d heard to make her remember, but a sudden pang of anxiety hit her like a monstrous wave. Was the castle being searched for the missing books? She had started reading the potions one early in the mornings and immediately realized why the Ministry had banned those books. They were very dangerous, especially in the hands of someone like Draco, who loved to talk about poisoning and hexing others who annoyed him… like muggle borns, muggles, and loud first years.

She stood with her house as Professor Dumbledore walked in, talking with several other teachers and sending them on their way with tasks.

He stood behind his podium and waited for everyone to quiet down as Mr. Filch shushed them all next to him. “I will be conducting a search of the castle along with your heads of houses and several other professors.” The large great hall doors closed and everyone jumped but Professor Dumbledore kept going. “For everyone’s safety, you will all be sleeping here, where we can watch over you for the night. There will be teachers on both sides of the doors keeping guard, and any prefects and Head boys and girls who wish to stay up and look after their houses will receive house points. Any… disturbances should be reported immediately to your house ghosts, who will report back to us.”

The ghosts all looked very proud to be of use and looked down at them all with serious faces. Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and all the tables flew to the sides, stacking high, along with all the benches. In their place hundreds of puffy purple sleeping bags appeared on the floor.

Pansy gasped, “We’ll be sleeping on the floor in THOSE?”

Draco kicked one of them and shook his head, looking very disgusted.

“Sleep and have delightful dreams,” Professor Dumbledore said as he closed the doors behind him, leaving the great hall with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall.

The second the doors closed everyone gathered around the Gryffindors as they excitedly told everyone what had happened. Heather, Ron, Harry, and Hermione had all picked sleeping bags in the back near Neville, Seamus, Dean, Fred, George, Lee, and Ginny.

Ron filled Heather in on what had happened. Sirius Black was in the castle and had destroyed the fat lady’s portrait in his attempt to break into the Gryffindor common room to kill Harry.

Heather gasped and looked at Harry. “No! But-but… How did he get passed the dementors? How could he have gotten in the castle? I can’t believe he really tried get in there and kill you!”

Harry looked as shaken up about it as her. “He must really be mad at me for defeating Voldemort…”

Ron jumped at the mention. “Obviously he’s figured out how to get passed the dementors… Are we really supposed to believe professors like Trelawney’ll keep us safe?”

Hermione shoved Ron’s shoulder. “Stop scaring them! Of course we’re safe here. Professor Dumbledore’s looking out for us. And the dementors aren’t very smart. They’re like angry dogs, really. The professor’s are much harder to get passed.”

Heather nodded and reached out for Harry’s hand. He squeezed back and kicked their sleeping bags closer to the high table where several teachers were pacing around. Everyone was being told to go to sleep so they got in their sleeping bags.

Hermione turned to them. “He’s not still in the castle, do you think?”

Ron made a motion under his sleeping bag. “If Dumbledore didn’t think so we’d be in our beds.”

Hermione shook her head. “No matter… It’ll all get sorted soon.”

Heather appreciated Hermione staying strong for them. It made her feel better, though she wasn’t sure it was enough to let her sleep peacefully. She turned around and listened to others whispering their ideas about how he had gotten in.

“He apparated in, how else?”

“But no one can apparate in… He came in disguised!”

“He didn’t just walk in – He flew!”

Heather felt someone shake her shoulder and turned to face Hermione.

“In ‘Hogwarts: a History’ it is stated very clearly that no one can just apparate in. And there are walls of spells that prevent anyone from entering by stealth. Not to mention that there are dementors EVERYWHERE who see through any disguise and even invisibility cloaks.” Hermione reassured her. “And Filch knows all the secret passages which are also probably sealed anyways.”

The lights went out and everything was dark, except for the twinkling sky above them and the slivery glow of the ghosts gliding above their heads, watching over them. Heather let out a sigh and moved closer to Hermione, feeling better after what she had said.

She could hear Percy shouting from across the great hall, shushing everyone. There was still a low whisper throughout the hall and Heather could only sleep for an hour or two at a time. Waking up every time the great hall doors opened and Percy ran up to the teachers, asking for updates.

Halfway through the night Professor Dumbledore walked back in, making his way to the high table. Percy ran over and asked if Sirius Black had been found.

“I believe he has left the castle. I’ve put up a replacement portrait and tomorrow morning everyone will have access to the tower again. I’ll have Mr. Filch restore the fat lady and she’ll be back in no time.”

“That’s marvelous, Sir.”

The door creaked open again and more footsteps drew near.

“Headmaster.” It was the deep voice of Professor Snape. “All the main floors are searched, with no sign of Black. Filch has rechecked the greenhouses and the dungeons.”

“And all the towers?”

“All rechecked. Still no signs.”

“Very good, Severus. It wouldn’t be like Sirius Black to linger.”

There was a pause.

“Have you any… theory… as to how he got in, Professor?” It seemed like Professor Snape was hinting at something.

“Many,” Professor Dumbledore dismissed his question. “All as unlikely as the last.”

She heard Harry’s sleeping bag jostle.

“And do you remember our conversation, Headmaster? Just before – ah – the beginning of term…” Professor Snape sounded more irritated now.

“I do. Severus.”

“It would appear to be… almost impossible… that anyone – let alone Black – could enter the castle without inside help.” He was almost angry now. “I believe I expressed my concerns when you appointed – ”

“There is not a single person in this castle that would aid Black in entering it.” His tone was deathly serious and ended with a clear indication their conversation was over. “I need to have a talk with the dementors. They wanted to know when the search is complete.”

Percy had still been there during their conversation and finally spoke up again. “Why didn’t the dementors help in the search?”

“So long as I remain Headmaster, no dementors will be crossing the threshold of this castle.”

Several footsteps retreated and the great hall doors creaked open and closed. Heather opened her eyes and turned to see Harry staring in their direction. She moved around and looked up at the high table Professor Snape took his seat lazily with crossed arms and furrowed brows.

The next several days the only thing anyone talked about was Sirius Black. Everyone was brainstorming how he managed to enter, coming up with wildly lunatic ideas, all involving him turning into some sort of plant, stone, or broom that had been brought in.

The only positive thing that had happened after Halloween was that they were now being guarded by most every teacher – and Percy – though Harry more than her. Everywhere they went they always found a teacher lurking not far behind, and Percy didn’t even try to hide it. He stood behind them proudly, with his chest held out for intimidation.

Heather felt much better walking around school, unlike Harry who seemed more and more annoyed as the days went on. As scared as he had been that night, the annoyance of always being watched was getting to him.

They were on their way to lunch one day when Professor McGonagall had called him into her office. They waited outside for him and within minutes he came out fuming and annoyed.

“I almost got banned from Quidditch practice!”

Ron gasped, “No! Why?”

“Because it’s out in the field at night. Now Madam Hooch’ll be looking over the practices.” Harry kicked at a bench angrily. “Have they all forgotten I’ve faced Voldemort three times?”

“Two times, Harry.” Heather rolled her eyes. “And so what? You’re safer now, and that’s all that matters. Not Quidditch.”

They made it into the great hall and Heather went to sit down next to Draco. She had taken a few bites of her food when Professor Snape made his way down to her on his way out.

He stopped just behind her and spoke. “My office after lunch is over.”

She swallowed her bite and watched him exit, robes billowing behind him like waves of solid black.

“What’ve you done now, Potter?” Draco laughed.

“Nothing…” She frowned and wondered what he wanted.

After lunch she made her way down to the dungeons and knocked on his office door. They opened and she pushed them, poking her head in and seeing someone else was there too, sitting across from Professor Snape.

She stepped in and sat down on the other chair and turned to see who else was there. It was Cassius, smirking with his legs crossed. He glanced at her and back at Professor Snape.

“Some teachers fear it may be too dangerous to be letting you practice out in the dark with only your team members,” Professor Snape grinned and looked at Cassius.

Heather moved to the edge of the chair. “So you’ll ask Madam Hooch to oversee practices? Like Professor McGonagall is doing for Harry?”

“Typical, Potter, expecting others to change their schedules around just to suit your needs?” He motioned to Cassius. “Warrington will be taking your place this year.”

“No!” Heather turned to look at Cassius who had on a smug face.

“I will gladly take over, Professor. That is,” he turned to Heather, “Until Black is caught of course. I wouldn’t want to remove you of your fairly earned spot on the team.”

“It’s not my fault Professor Lupin wanted to talk to you!” Heather gripped the arms of her chair, trying to hold back her anger. “I DID earn my spot!”

“Calm your tantrum!” Professor Snape growled. “And I don’t believe ever mentioning it was Lupin who needed to have a word with him that day.”

Heather gulped and Cassius chuckled under his breath.

“Warrington. You may go. I have another matter to discuss with Potter.”

Cassius stood and looked down at her triumphantly before leaving Professor Snape’s office.

She crossed her arms and refused to look at him, leaning back in her seat. She stared at the edge of the desk as if she could make it combust instantly.

“Professor McGonagall thinks it wise to inform you about Sirius Black.” Professor Snape interlaced his fingers and placed them on the desk. “He – ”

She didn’t want to hear anymore. “Yes. I know. He’s after us – or Harry – because he defeated Voldemort.”

He leaned back, shocked, at the mention of Voldemort’s name. “I see… And are you aware of why he is regarded as incredibly dangerous?”

Heather nodded. “He killed lots of muggles and a wizard on the day of his capture. We heard everything about him already from Mr. Weasley.”

Professor Snape frowned. “Snooping, no doubt.”

Her face went red and she looked away again.

“Very well. Then that is all. Should I – or Warrington – see you on that field, you will serve detention for the rest of the year in the potions classrooms, cleaning the floors and cauldrons during every break. Do I make myself clear?”

She nodded. “May I leave now – Sir?”

Professor Snape nodded and she stood. Making her way out and trying very hard not to slam the door behind her. She stormed into her common room and found Draco writing an essay before his next class in one of the back desks.

She walked up to him, arms still crossed. “Professor Snape took me off the team. Warrington’s taken my place.”

Draco leaned back. “But Flint – ”

“It doesn’t matter. He says it’s for my ‘safety’ but Harry gets Madam Hooch to oversee practice. He’s just getting back at me because he thinks I had something to do with Professor Lupin talking to Warrington!”

Draco thought a moment. “So get that fool to tell Professor Snape that. We’ve been practicing our old and new plays with you; if Warrington’s put in then he’d have to catch up which would slow us all down.”

Heather scoffed, “Is that all you care about? Getting slowed down?”

Draco thought some more and nodded, “Yeah. Either way we’re winning the Quidditch cup again.”

She twisted her mouth and rolled her eyes at him, taking a seat on a cushion by the bright green fire. Surprisingly he had a good idea. Surely Professor Lupin would help her by explaining to Professor Snape that she had nothing to do with that. If he could help her, then she’d make him her favorite teacher again. She smiled and picked up her bag, thinking about when the best time to talk to Professor Lupin was. She’d talk to him in his office and he’d be as glad to help her as he had been last time.

She smiled and left her common room.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	16. Back as Chaser

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

It had been a few weeks into the Quidditch season and she was still not allowed anywhere near the Quidditch pitch. Draco had just taken off his sling, telling everyone he felt much better, and was walking up the dungeon stairs for the Slytherin’s fifth day of training.

Heather kept a steady pace with him. “Alright but – What does Marcus think about it? Is he still upset Cassius replaced me? Just tell me!”

Draco sighed. “I don’t know! He’s still giving Warrington a hard time… Making him do extra drills and all that… But I don’t know if he’s upset because of you not being on.”

“What do you mean?” They were heading down the entrance hall stairs now.

“He’s just upset Professor Snape took control of his team. Flint’s captain and HE makes decisions.” Draco sped up, looking at the sky as they stepped outside. “I’m sure next year you’ll manage to make it on the team, Potter.”

Heather stopped on the last step and crossed her arms, letting Draco head down the grassy slopes alone. She looked up at the greying sky, filling with dark muddy clouds as the wind blew them nearer. By the looks of it, there was a storm approaching, and a nasty one at that.

She shivered and headed back in, feeling incredibly defeated. She’d been back to Professor Snape’s office a few times to beg to be put back in, but he wouldn’t even listen. He’d just shut her up and send her away unless she could come up with a potions question worth his time.

She really didn’t want to bother Professor Lupin with her problems, but she didn’t know what else to do but ask him to fight her battle again. She rubbed her arms and headed up the stairs to his office. The corridor was quiet and his room door was shut, which normally wasn’t until late in the evening, closer to after hours.

She knocked on the door a few times and didn’t hear a thing. Having been used to Professor Snape’s avoidance to students, she knocked again and then a third time and waited. Finally, she heard a chair scrape and the light that seeped from under the door showed a shadow at the door.

Very slowly the door opened and Professor Lupin leaned against the door, slightly ajar. He looked down at her and frowned with concern, opening up further.

“Ah, Heather… What can I do for you?” He gave her a tired smile. He had baggy eyes with dark circles and was looking very pale. The hints of scars on his face he normally had were much pinker now, clearly visible, and he seemed to stand a lot more compact, like he was trying to bring his limbs in to stay warm or keep from shivering.

“Professor? Are you alright?”

He chuckled and stood straighter. “Oh I’m just… feeling a bit under the weather… Storms coming and I think I’m just sensing that.”

Heather nodded. “May I please talk to you?”

“Of course! Any time, Heather.” He stepped aside and let her in, keeping the door open. He slumped into his seat and rubbed his eyes. “What’s this about then?”

She blew out hot breath and tried her best not to sound whiney, like Professor Snape had accused her of sounding like this morning. “I’m not allowed on the Quidditch team… I’ve been kicked out and replaced with Warrington because Professor Snape found out he was held back that day of the try outs.”

“Ah… yes… I-I heard about that. I’m very sorry. Professor Snape can be very vindictive, as I’m sure you realize.”

Heather nodded. “But surely… I mean… Maybe you could talk to him?”

Professor Lupin laughed suddenly, seeming more tired. “I’m not sure, Heather… He’s not the type of person to be convinced. Is he?”

The sound of thunder rattled the window and Professor Lupin stared out. She crossed her arms again and looked down, knowing that convincing Professor Snape was as slim of a chance as it was for Lockhart to have found himself actually helpful last year.

“But you could try, couldn’t you?” She looked back up, leaned forward, and brought her voice to a whisper. “You could tell him I really had nothing to do with it… If you told him you really did have reason to hold Cassius back that day, then he’d see he’s taking it out on me for no reason.”

He looked at her and nodded slowly. “Alright. I will try.”

Heather perked up and smiled. “Now?”

“Now?” He frowned. “Why now?”

“Well, it’s the last day of practice before the match Friday. Gryffindor’s got the next few days all booked up.” She tried to look hopeful.

Professor Lupin leaned back and stared at his desk for a few seconds and sighed. “Let’s go now then. I did get you in this mess… And I suppose my cold will only get worse as the days go. So now’s as good a time as any.” He smacked the desk and stood, giving her a weak smile.

Heather jumped to her feet and headed for the door.

They walked down extra slowly but surely and made their way to Professor Snape’s office. Heather shook away her jitters and knocked on his office door several times until he finally called out.

“Enough. Just – Enter.”

She poked her head in and pushed the door open. Professor Snape rolled his eyes at first sight of her and grumbled.

“Twice in one day. How lucky of me.” His brows pulled down deeper as he saw Professor Lupin shuffling inside. “Lupin?”

Professor Lupin nodded. “Professor Snape, I wanted to talk to you.”

He set his quill down and folded his hands on his desk. “I do wonder what about.” His voice was thick with sarcasm.

Professor Lupin chuckled and reached for his chin. “Well… I think you might be mistaking the events of the day of the Slytherin’s Quidditch tryouts. Heather here has informed me that you might be under the impression that she had something to do with Mr. Warrington not showing up.”

Heather bit her lip. She wasn’t too sure telling Professor Snape that he’d made a mistake was such a good idea. She watched his eyes and saw them flicker to her as if wanting to stare her down like he normally did, except he never took his eyes of Professor Lupin for more than a split second.

“See, I needed to talk to him about the essay he’d handed in. I wanted to talk to him about a second chance at doing it, with a bit more information added in before I took it for grading… Which he did do.” Professor Lupin stood there, waiting for a reply.

Professor Snape stared up at him for a few seconds. “I see.” He smiled. “Still no.”

“But I had nothing to do with it! I made it on the team and Flint kept me on despite Warrington still trying out!” Heather pulled the chair in front of his desk back and sat down. “Professor Snape, please let me back on the team!”

He glanced at her. “You’re whining again.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. She really was kicked off the team for the year, and all because of her stupid attempt to up her chances of making it.

“Severus, you’re being a tad bit unreasonable.” Professor Lupin held his hands up as Professor Snape stared daggers at him.

“This conversation is over,” he growled.

Heather hung her head and stood. Professor Lupin sighed and turned when a sudden shiver ran down his body and he gripped the back of the chair until it passed.

“Lupin.” Professor Snape stood. “You need more of my potion.”

“No, no. I’m alright. It was just a shiver. I’ve drank enough of that for now.” Professor Lupin straightened and crossed his arms shrugging. “See? All better.”

“‘Better.’” Professor Snape glanced at Heather again. “For now… But as colds do go – you’ll get worse, won’t you Lupin.”

Professor Lupin stared back at him. “That is how colds go, Severus.”

“Then perhaps you’ll be too ill to teach Friday’s lesson. I wonder.”

Heather looked back at Professor Lupin as he pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded at his words. He was looking slightly annoyed.

“Most likely. Yes.”

Professor Snape smiled then. “I could teach your lessons, with ease. Until the cold… passes.”

Professor Lupin rubbed at his chin and looked at Heather, giving her a wink. “I was actually going to ask Mrs. Sprout. Maybe next time, Snape.” He turned to head out the door when Professor Snape groaned.

“Stop with your theatrics, Lupin. I’ll get Potter back on the team.”

Professor Lupin sighed. “Then it’s a deal. Have fun teaching my lessons Friday.”

Professor Snape smiled. “I’ll be by later with another goblet-full.”

Heather had the feeling she’d just been played somehow, but that was unlikely… Wasn’t it?

“Let’s go Heather, before he snakes his way into having more.” Professor Lupin pushed her out the door and closed it behind them.

Heather felt her grin pushing her cheeks up as far as they’d go. “Thank you, professor!” She could still make it to the last hour of practice if she hurried.

“Heather, I did you a favor… and I’d kindly ask you to do me one. Don’t tell anyone about today, alright? I’ll let Professor Snape tell the classes I’m a bit ill.” He looked down at her from the steps and smiled warmly.

She nodded. “I won’t even tell Harry.”

Professor Lupin nodded back and headed slowly up the dungeon stairs. She turned on her heels and ran into the common room and into the dorms, hurrying to get changed. She ran back out and took the stairs two at a time, hurrying down the corridor and bursting through the castle doors.

It was freezing cold and the wind howled like crazy, whipping her hair around and stinging her cheeks as she ran down the grassy lawn. She pulled out her broom from the shed and calmly walked into the Quidditch field, looking for Flint up in the sky.

She waved at him and he came down.

“Potter? You’re not allowed on the field.”

“I’m back in! Professor Snape will probably tell Warrington tonight or something.” She smiled but Marcus’ frown did not lift.

“So he’s decided you’re back in, did he?” He looked over at the castle and bared his teeth. “Maybe he should be captain then. If he’ll be making all the decisions.”

Heather shifted her weight, not liking how things were going. “Well… I can resume practice…”

Marcus stared down at her. “Warrington can throw farther than you, Potter. Who says I want you back on my team?”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out.

“What’s she doing here, Flint?” Cassius came down and hopped off his broom, stepping towards her. “You’re not allowed anymore.”

Heather shook her head. “Professor Snape’s letting me back on. H-he’ll tell you… t-tonight probably… or t-tomorrow…” She didn’t like how close Cassius was getting to her face.

He leaned down and poked her collar with the end of his broom. “And who says I’ll leave? You, Potter? Think being related to big shot ‘Harry Potter: boy who lived’ gives you free reign of the school, dirty-blood?”

More of the team was down on the field again, and Heather’s face was going red. She saw Draco out of the corner of her eye, shaking his head and looking down.

“No, me, Warrington. Your captain.” Marcus was on the ground, crossing his arms now. “Why should I let you back on? You’re the one messing with my team.”

Heather stepped back from Warrington and looked at Marcus. “Because I’m more valuable to the team.”

Marcus and Warrington laughed.

“How do you figure, Potter?”

She mulled over Marcus’ question for a minute, hoping for any reason to pop into her head. “Because… I have better ideas… I had the idea to have Malfoy and I on the team last year because we were faster and that worked out. And I have an idea now.”

Marcus looked at Warrington and nodded at Heather. “Go on.”

Heather smiled, ignoring Warrington’s death glare. “Are we really going to play in this weather? The Gryffindors are practicing and expecting we will, which means they’ll be training against OUR style… So, let’s switch on them. Trade with one of the other teams.” Marcus was nodding at her so she continued more confidently. “Obviously Ravenclaw would never agree under this weather, but Hufflepuff would. Gryffindor beat them in under five minutes last year. They were humiliated. They’ll want a rematch.”

“And what excuse do we have for that? Huh? Matches are decided among the heads of houses. We can’t change that.” Warrington turned to Marcus. “It’s not a good idea if we can’t do it.”

“Think outside the box, Warrington.” She smiled at the look he gave her and faced Marcus again. “Malfoy will just say his arm hurts still. Professor Snape won’t care if it’s true. And he’ll be able to handle convincing Professor Sprout.”

Warrington was fuming but Marcus nodded and smiled. “Malfoy, your arm still hurts right?”

Draco walked up to them and smiled at Heather. “Oh loads. I don’t know if it’ll feel any better until – how long do storms last?” He laughed.

Marcus nodded and smiled wickedly at her idea. “Potter. I’ve decided you’re back in. Warrington, out.”

Heather grinned again, feeling the day’s rollercoaster of events back at a high.

Warrington threw his broom down and stormed off.

“Wipe that look off your face, Potter. You’ll be staying an extra hour with Malfoy here to show you the new plays.” Marcus mounted his broom again and instructed the team back in the air.

Heather turned to Draco, “Thanks…”

“Whatever, Potter. It was a good idea. Besides, your brother’ll be furious.” Draco laughed and mounted his broom. “He makes the dumbest face.”

Heather snorted. “Sure.”

The next hour Marcus made her drills extra intense and she almost fell off her broom twice. It had been several months since she had practiced her drills and she felt very rusty. She was sweating buckets and half of it was probably from nerves that Marcus would change his mind about keeping her on the team.

After the team had gone she was exhausted and sat in the locker room with Draco, who was looking very tired as well.

“These are the new plays,” he scratched out the formations on the chalkboard. He went through each one sloppily and refused to let her ask questions. “That’s the thick of it. If your plan works you’ll have another month to understand these.”

Heather nodded, giving up on learning anything more from him. “So, when’ll you tell Professor Snape about your arm?”

He shrugged. “I was thinking during potions tomorrow.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. Actually, I’ve got an idea.”

Heather nodded. “Alright well… As long as it works.”

They headed out and shined their wands in front of themselves to see through the darkness. The wind was pulling their Quidditch robes and pushing them back hard. It had started raining and Heather had an odd sense she was being watched.

She turned around, feeling her heart rate quicken and stared out into the darkness. Draco looked back and turned too, shining his wand out brighter.

“Potter? Don’t tell me your easily spooked too.”

Heather shook her head and turned back. “Of course not… Though… If Black made it into the castle… and he still wants to kill Harry… and possibly me – wouldn’t he be hiding out in the forbidden forest? I mean… That’s where I’d hide…”

Draco turned and looked out into the darkness and into the forest. He went a little paler and shrugged. “Let’s just… get back in. If you’re that scared, Potter.”

Heather scoffed. “Why’re you shaking, Draco?”

He was about to respond when a nearby sound of displaced rocks sent them bolting the rest of the way up the lawn and stumbling through the castle doors. They panted at the entrance and looked out into the night, spotting a distant rabbit nibbling on some grass by the bottom stone steps.

“Scared of rabbits now?”

Heather rolled her eyes. They headed into the common room and Heather made very sure to stay as far away from Warrington as possible. He seemed a little too eager to pick on her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to call her blood dirty again for not being a pureblood.

It was an unspoken rule among Slytherins that blood status should not be revealed unless the status was that of pureblood. Purebloods spoke about it all the time, but aside from a very select few who let it slip, she didn’t know the status of anyone else. If the house was made up of mainly muggle-borns, no one would ever know except maybe Professor Snape.

She took a shower and got dressed. She headed back down to the common room with her potions textbook and parchment to finish her essay due the next day.

Warrington was still glaring at her so she decided to sit with Draco and Pansy and their friends.

“Back on the team, Heather? Realize your life needed meaning?” Pansy snickered. “At least now you’ll be useful again.”

Heather breathed out. “Yeah, back on as Chaser.”

She watched Pansy roll her eyes and continue talking to her friends as she wrote. Draco talked to his own friends and Heather was sitting there feeling invisible. She was safe from Warrington’s wrath, but she still felt out of place. She wished she had something to make her interesting or cool. Something Pansy liked enough to give her reason to be nice to her.

“How long is it supposed to sit for? Twenty minutes or something?” Pansy looked around at all their essays but no one spoke up.

“‘No less than twenty-seven minutes when using cooked gilstones, no more than thirty when uncooked.’” Heather quoted Professor Snape word for word as everyone wrote what she said down.

Pansy nodded, “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” Heather looked back at her essay and smiled to herself.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	17. The Worst Game

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

The clouds outside were dark and ominous above their heads. The sky was covered and not a ray of sunshine or smudge of blue sky shone through the large dense storm clouds. The wind howled in their ears and threw cold rain on their face as they walked up the grassy lawn back into the Castle. They had barely been able to hear Hagrid during their class and that really told them just how bad this storm was. The wind had turned his loud booming voice into a quiet squeak, no louder than a kitten’s purr.

Draco and his pack of Slytherins ran past with smug looks. Draco clutched his re-slung arm and snickered. “Ooh! Aah! It really hurts.”

“I can’t believe them,” Ron crossed his arms. “He had taken that stupid thing off MONDAY, and two days later he needs it again because ‘the weather’?”

Heather had been feeling quite guilty about her plan. It had saved her and gotten her back on her team, but it had screwed the Gryffindor’s practice up big time.

Harry groaned. “Don’t remind me!”

Harry had gotten very upset the day Draco had put her plan into action. He’d done it during potions, where he knew he could get away with it. They’re potions were boiling deep in their cauldrons and class was almost over when he’d clutched his arm in pain and fell to the ground, howling about feeling the storm clouds in his bones. Professor Snape sent him to Madam Pomfrey’s and by dinner time the Gryffindor captain was told that the match had been rescheduled to Saturday morning and it was now against Hufflepuffs.

Hermione put a reassuring hand on his arm, “You’ll be fine.”

They walked into the castle and Heather took Harry’s wrist, looking at his watch. “We’ll be late!”

“So what? It’s Lupin,” Ron smiled, “He might even give us points for it.”

Heather shook her head and elbowed Hermione who nodded and they both began running in the direction of the Defense classroom. The bolted up the stairs and just as they reached the door the bells rang throughout the school.

Heather pulled the door open and held it for Hermione. She walked in and gasped. Heather poked her head around the corner and saw Professor Snape sitting at the desk with his arms crossed and staring at them with narrowed eyes.

“Take your seats before I start removing points.”

They ran to their seats near the front and quickly took out their books. Heather had forgotten Professor Snape was supposed to teach Defense today! She turned to the door as Professor Snape began the lecture.

The seconds were dragging on and even Hermione was looking worried now. Harry and Ron were really taking their time.

Finally the classroom door opened and Harry walked in with Ron laughing behind him.

“Sorry we’re late, Professor Lupin. We – ” Harry came to a halt as he spotted Professor Snape at the front of the class.

“Are your ears working, Potter? Did you not hear the bells ring ten minutes ago?” Professor Snape pulled his robes around himself as he crossed his arms and smiled. “Shall we make it ten points from Gryffindor then? Take your seat.”

Ron sat in the nearest chair but Harry didn’t move, instead looked around at everyone and at Heather, who shook her head, begging him not to speak. She jerked her head to his seat but he didn’t budge.

“Where’s Professor Lupin?” Harry frowned.

Professor Snape’s smile twisted. “He’s too ill to teach today.” He narrowed his eyes and dropped the smile. “I believe I told you to take your seat?”

Harry still didn’t move. “What’s wrong with him?”

At this point the whole class was looking horrified at Harry, except the Gryffindors who mostly all looked very impressed.

“Nothing life threatening,” he said regretfully. “Let’s see. Five more points from Gryffindor. I’ll make it fifty the next time I have to ask you to sit down, Potter.”

Harry finally took his seat next to Heather. She shook her head at him, but he kept his eyes trained on Professor Snape as he went on.

“Before Potter’s interruption, I was saying Professor Lupin did not seem to record what topics he has already covered and so – ”

Hermione’s hand shot up in the air. “Sir, we’ve done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, grindylows, and we’ve just finished – ”

“Quiet,” Professor Snape snapped. “I did not ask nor did I call on you, Miss Granger. I was merely commenting on the lack of organization Professor Lupin appears to have.”

“Professor Lupin is the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Dean Thomas spoke up.

Insulting Professor Lupin must have struck a nerve among the class because a murmur of agreement with the bold Gryffindor ran throughout the class.

Professor Snape looked more menacing now, glaring down Dean and the rest of the whispering class. “You are all easily satisfied,” he spoke through his teeth. “First years should be able to deal with grindylows and especially Red Caps.” He paused and picked up the text book, “Today’s lesson shall cover – ” he flipped to the back chapter, “Werewolves.”

Hermione’s arm shot up again. “Sir, we’re supposed to be starting hinkypunks today – ”

“Granger.” Professor Snape’s voice was deadly calm and steady. “I believe the instructor for this class today, is me. Not. You.” He turned to the class, “Page 394. Read along.” He looked around and frowned, “Now! Everyone!”

Heather had already opened her book to the last chapter and stared at Professor Snape as he began his lecture. She’d never seen him so mad, not even after Neville had tripped and knocked over several handfuls of glass jars full of very old potions ingredients.

Professor Snape paced the front of the class. “What is the easiest distinction between a werewolf and the true wolf?”

The class stayed motionless and silent except for Hermione who raised her hand instantly. Heather looked down at her book and read the first lines of the first paragraph and raised her hand as well.

“No one?” Professor Snape tisked and gave his twisted smile again. “I see that Professor Lupin has failed to teach you even the most basic distinction between – ”

Parvati Patil stood up. “We’ve already said we haven’t gotten through werewolves yet. We’ve just finished – ”

“SILENCE,” Professor Snape snarled. “What an unfortunate surprise. Quite disappointing to meet a third-year class so behind they couldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I’ll make sure to inform the Head Master of this and we’ll see what he makes of it…”

Hermione finally took her arm down. “Please, sir. The werewolf differs from a true wolf in the snout, the claws, the – ”

“Miss Granger, this is the – second – time you have interrupted me this class,” his voice was calm and cold again. “Five points from Gryffindor, for being an insufferable know-it-all.”

Heather pressed her hands to her face. How many times were the Gryffindors really going to interrupt Professor Snape? And was it bold or stupid to do so while he is clearly fuming with anger? She removed her hands and looked over at Hermione who had gone red in the face and was holding back tears. She felt guilty for being very annoyed but every Slytherin knew not to cross Professor Snape, and after three years of being his students, the Gryffindors should know that too.

“You wanted to know the answer and Hermione gave it! If you don’t want to hear it, why even ask us?” Ron shouted from the back.

Everyone turned to look at Ron who quickly realized he’d gone too far.

Professor Snape advanced on him slowly, savoring each step. He leaned down and gripped the edge of Ron’s desk, bringing his face close to his. “Detention. And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach – any – of my classes, again… You will be – very – sorry indeed.”

The rest of class went by slow. Professor Snape had decided not to read to them and instead prowled around the desks as everyone read and took notes off the book. At one point he took to looking through their essays on past topics criticizing how Professor Lupin graded them too easily, as if daring another student to speak up out of turn.

“This makes no sense … Wrong. Wrong. Not even close . . . He gave this nonsense an eight? It’s a two at best …”

No one dared speak up after Ron’s outburst. They all bit their tongues and ignored his comments. Heather stared at the stack of papers in his hands and looked for any sign of her own essay, wanting to see what he thought of it. He picked up one with an ink smudge on the top left corner and she knew instantly it was hers.

He scanned the essay and looked at her. “Atrocious.”

She bit her cheek and went very red, glaring down at the words on the textbook. The bell rang and the class all sighed with relief. They started packing, wanting to get out of the room as soon as possible but Professor Snape held them back.

“I want two rolls of parchment, to be handed into me, on the ways wizards identify and kill werewolves. I want them by Monday morning. Any student who does not complete two full rolls will lose their house two points. It appears it is up to me, to get this class back on track.” He sat down and dismissed the everyone. “Weasley. Not you. We must arrange your detention.”

Heather followed Harry out with the rest of the class. The second they reached the stairs the whole class erupted with anger at Professor Snape.

“I can’t believe he said my essay was ‘atrocious’ – ”

“You know Ron was right. I answered what he asked and quite frankly– ”

“He hates Lupin. It’s so obvious! He’s never been like that with any other Defense teacher.” Harry stopped them next to a column. “Is this really all because of Neville’s boggart?”

Heather laughed. “Do you really not think it’s because of all the times YOU Gryffindors interrupted him today? He could barely get a sentence out without – ”

Harry groaned. “Don’t tell me he’s still your favorite teacher after this!”

Heather bit her tongue and crossed her arms. ‘Atrocious’? Really?

Ron came running down the stairs and almost yelled ‘Watch it!’ when he bumped Harry. “Oh. I didn’t see you.” He stepped behind the column and threw down his bag. “I have to scrub the hospital wing bedpans! With no magic! What an – ”

“Ron!” Hermione hissed, stopping him from cursing out their teacher.

Ron crossed his arms and glared at her. “Fine! But I still think Black should’ve hid in his office and torn him to pieces. It’d’ve done us all a great favor!”

Heather gasped. “That’s a very morbid thing to say, Ron.”

He rolled his eyes. “But you’re not denying it.”

“Of course we’re denying it,” Heather and Hermione said in unison.

The next morning Heather woke with a groan. She had spent several hours last night outlining her werewolf essay and now her eyes were tired and stinging. She had thought maybe the structure of the information from her essay had made it ‘atrocious’ and thought making sure the ideas flowed well would make him not think it was horrible.

She got up out of bed, dressed, and headed down to breakfast where Harry and Wood were talking – or more like Wood was talking at Harry who looked just as exhausted as Heather felt. She walked over and took a seat next to Harry.

Wood gave her a look. “I think maybe this morning you should go sit with your house… Since I’m talking strategy with Harry and soon the rest of the team.”

Heather frowned. She had always been accepted at the Gryffindor table, especially since she sat next to Harry always. “But you’re not playing us.”

“No. We’re not.”

Harry turned to her with a sheepish look. “M-maybe just this once? I mean the rest of the team will get here soon anyways.”

Heather huffed and stood up, crossing her arms. “Fine.”

She didn’t really have a right to be so upset. She was the one to blame for ruining their match, but no one knew that besides her own team. It was the second secret she was keeping from Harry but she still didn’t think it was very fair to be kicked from her usual breakfast spot.

She walked over to the Slytherin table and pulled a plate of toast over, taking several slicing and angrily smeared butter on them. She bit down and waited for more people to join the table. After several bites, most of the school had finally made it down and were excitedly eating breakfast in preparation for the match.

The Slytherin Prefects had decided to borrow Hufflepuff scarves and hats and were handing them out. Heather pushed hers aside and got dirty looks from a few fifth years and the Head Boy. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams left and minutes later everyone else was filing out and heading down to the Quidditch pitch.

She found Ron and Hermione fast and joined them as they headed up the stands. They took their seats opposite the Slytherins and waited for the teams to come out of the changing rooms.

Hermione was looking up at the sky, holding her hair down from blowing in her face. “These are safe playing conditions… right?”

Heather and Ron looked up at the dark grey clouds that seemed to be gathering right over the school grounds. They looked so heavy they could fall to the ground.

“I’ve seen games played through giant hail storms,” Ron shouted over the wind. “This is nothing!”

Heather pulled hair from her mouth and decided to braid it down. She leaned over the railing and saw Madam Hooch walking out of the Quidditch ball closet with a chest under her arm and her broom in hand. Both teams came out and the school cheered as they took their positions.

The rain had started to really pour and Heather found it hard to see anything going on. She squinted and saw they were mounting their brooms and they the game was in play, but she never heard Madam Hooch’s whistle blow. The wind was muffling everything, and even Lee Jordan’s loud comments came back as a whisper.

All that she could hear was the cheering and screaming when Gryffindor scored points. Heather pulled her robes on tighter and pulled her hood up as she searched the skies for any signs of Harry, but everyone just looked like red and yellow blurs. She was glad she wasn’t playing, though yesterday wouldn’t have been as bad as it was now. There was another roar of cheers and she heard vague words about Gryffindor scoring points form Lee.

The sky was getting darker and the wind felt like slashes on her cheeks. There was a loud crack of thunder and suddenly a flash of lightning struck a nearby tree. Madam Hooch was now holding her wand to her neck and blew hard on the whistle, cutting through the sound of the rushing wind. The teams touched down onto the muddy field.

“Have they postponed the match?” Hermione asked hopefully.

Ron shook his head. “I think it’s a time out.”

“How can you tell? I can barely see anything from here?” Heather squinted hard.

“Oh! I have an idea!” Hermione ran down the stairs and seconds later she was running across the field to Harry.

“What is she doing?” Ron shook his head.

Hermione was running back and the whistle blew again. She ran up the stairs and shook her hair as she stood next to them. “Hopefully now he’ll see better with his glasses. I used a simple spell on them. He should be able to see the snitch now.”

“And he’ll end the game already.” Heather was already soaked to her skin and wanted desperately to crawl in bed and sleep the rest of the day away.

She looked up again, trying to spot Harry among the red streaks, when lightning struck again and illuminated the dark sky and a terrifying image appeared in the clouds. A black silhouette of a shaggy dog. She gasped and looked around, but no one else seemed to have been paying much attention to the actual sky, just the red streaked players.

Had she just seen the grim? She looked around again as the crowd quieted down and even the wind seemed to silence. The cold cutting rain suddenly seemed warm compared to the air that seemed to be freezing on the spot. She looked behind and saw waves of black floating cloaks making their way over the stands.

Her numb body was alive again with fear and guilt and sadness. All her worries and anxieties seemed to pound in her head as the cloaked figures floated around, moving their heads in search of something. She felt tears freezing on her cheeks and sobbed, remembering all the times Uncle Vernon had screamed and yelled at her, and all the times Dudley had hurt her.

She thought of Harry and tore her eyes away from the dementors. There were dots of red and yellow looking down at them from the sky, and a streak of red falling through the icy mist. From the corner of her eyes she saw a white light growing so bright it seemed to illuminate the whole stadium. She closed her eyes from the blinding light and suddenly felt all the horrible feelings seep away.

She gasped for breath and opened her eyes, looking around at streaks of black dashing away in a fury. She turned back to the field and saw Madam Hooch, Professor Dumbledore, and all the players huddled around the center.

Heather remembered the grim she had seen in the sky moments before the dementors showed. “Harry!” She ran down the stairs and bolted across the muddy field. Her feet almost stuck into the ground as she ran into the circle of people huddled around a body.

Hermione gasped behind her as they came into view of Harry, knocked out and wedged into the ground.

Professor McGonagall came through. “Albus, is he alright?”

Professor Dumbledore nodded. “Quite so. I slowed his fall. Why don’t we take him to Madam Pomfrey so she has someone to fuss over for a few days.”

Heather watched them levitate Harry and carry him out of the field. Ron, Hermione, and Heather followed close behind. She understood the words Professor Dumbledore had said, but Harry’s motionless body looked so pale and cold under the smudges of mud.

She blinked and realized it wasn’t the rain that was making it so hard to see, it was her tears. She wiped them away and sobbed, feeling Hermione grab hold of her hand and Ron put an arm over her shoulder as they walked up to the castle.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	18. Back to Normal

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall set Harry down on a bed and went to talk to Madam Pomphrey. He still hadn’t stirred the whole way up the lawn or at any point through the castle. Heather, Hermione, and Ron had followed close behind, holding back tears.

They took their seats next to Harry’s bed and sat there as Madam Pomphrey mumbled angrily under her breath as she looked him over.

“ – Should have canceled that match – Like I had said – but no – ” She pushed the sheets up to Harry’s shoulders. “I’ll be back with my wand. He’s fine,” she assured them.

Ron gave Heather an arm squeeze and she nodded, taking in what she said. Harry was fine. He’s been through worse… it was only a fifty-foot drop or so.

Professor McGonagall had left with Professor Dumbledore and come back with a bundle under a grey wool blanket. She gave it to Heather and sighed heavily before walking away.

Ron checked what it was and squeaked. “It was a good broom… The best.”

“They must have canceled the match after this, wouldn’t they? How many players can you have before the game has to be canceled?” Hermione looked out the window at the storm clouds nervously.

Her question wasn’t answered until twenty minutes later when the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all muddy and sore, came rushing into the hospital wing looking for Harry. Fred and George sat on the bed on the other side of him, joined by the three chasers, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina.

“How is he?” Fred looked at Ron for answers, seeing as Hermione was still staring out the window, avoiding looking at Harry, and Heather couldn’t do anything but stare at Harry.

Ron nodded, “He’s fine. Just knocked cold. Madam Pomphrey already went over him and gave him some kind of goo,” he made a face. “Didn’t look edible.”

“He was real lucky the ground was so soft. All that mud broke his fall,” Fred nudged George.

George sighed, “Was really worried. We thought he was dead.”

“Wood even called for a reschedule – too bad we didn’t get one,” Alicia shook her head. “Poor Harry.”

Heather had been staring at Harry’s face when she saw his eyes squeeze. She stood and got on the bed next to him, “Harry?”

His eyes fluttered open. “Ow.” He rubbed his head and winced, “Everything hurts.”

“Well you did fall from the sky, Harry,” Hermione sniffled.

“How’re you feeling, Harry?” Fred asked, leaning in closer. “You gave George quite a fright.”

George hit his arm, “I wasn’t the one shaking on my broom.”

“What happened?” Harry sat up suddenly, looking at all their faces.

“You fell. From VERY high, so lay back down.” Heather pushed him back.

“We thought… We thought you’d died,” Katie was shaking under Angelina’s arm.

Hermione sniffed again.

“Yeah, I remember that. I mean the match! What happened? Did we win?” He stared at Fred and George but they looked away, rubbing their necks. “We LOST?”

“Right after you fell, Diggory got the Snitch. He hadn’t realized what was happening below and caught it while you fell – ”

“He wanted a rematch, though. Him and Wood argued with Madam Hooch the rest of the time we were out there, but according to the rules, it’s fair – ”

“Even Wood agreed in the end.”

Harry looked around. “Where is Wood?”

“Still in the showers,” Angelina said.

Fred leaned in again, “We think he’s trying to drown himself in there.”

Fred and George laughed but Harry pressed his hands to his face and shook his head. Heather looked at them and frowned.

“It’s alright, Harry!” Fred shook his shoulder.

“You’ve never missed the Snitch before,” George reminded him.

“There had to be at least one time you did.”

Heather pulled Harry’s hands away, “You can make it up against Ravenclaw. Right?”

“Yeah!” Fred shook his shoulder again. “We lost by a hundred points so Hufflepuff just needs to lose to Ravenclaw and we have to beat both Ravenclaw and Slytherin!”

“’Cept Hufflepuff never lose to Ravenclaw…”

“Well if Hufflepuff loses to Slytherin – ”

“Sure, that’ll happen for sure but Slytherin won’t be losing to Ravenclaw so our match – ”

“You could throw it for Harry, couldn’t you. Humble Malfoy a bit –”

“Ron!” Heather glared at him.

“You don’t need to throw the match,” George reassured them. “A hundred point margin could go either way, really.”

“Doesn’t really matter yet, if you think about it,” Fred agreed.

The team left and it was just Heather, Hermione, and Ron left by Harry’s side as he stared vacantly at the ceiling above.

“Did you see Dumbledore on his way out?” Hermione was asking them. “He seemed deadly angry.”

Ron nodded. “Never seen him so mad.” He looked back at Harry, “Furious the dementors had come onto the grounds.”

They all stared at Harry, who still hadn’t moved since finding out Gryffindor had lost.

He turned to them, as if realizing they were still there. He looked around. “Did… someone get my Nimbus?”

They looked at the pile of snapped wood on the far chair.

“Well…” Heather looked at Ron.

“I-it… Broke. Snapped in half, actually.”

“What?” Harry sat up again and was pushed back down by Hermione.

“When you fell the winds carried it and… dropped it off on the Whomping Willow.” Hermione kept her hand on Harry’s shoulder, preventing him from bolting up again.

“In half? How will I play!”

“Alright, visiting time’s over.”

They were glad for Madam Pomphrey’s interruption. Heather wasn’t sure how to answer his question just yet. It seemed like they had the money for another Nimbus Two-Thousand, but how they’d get to Diagon Alley in London and purchase it before his next match was the real problem, especially if they couldn’t even go to the village just below the castle gates.

They left him to rest and while Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade that weekend for more candy, Heather stayed by Harry’s side, studying and playing wizard chess with him. Neither of them where any good so she spent most of the time studying and Harry sleeping.

Lots of people came by on Saturday. Hagrid brought huge yellow flowers the size of Heather’s whole head, Ginny brought a get-well card she made herself – handing it over with a furious blush, and all of the team came by again with Wood.

“Don’t blame you, Harry. It was those dementors that ruined the game,” he had said. They could tell he was telling the truth, despite his sullen face and angry eyes.

On Sunday, Harry was finally feeling better enough to sit up and talk. They were on their third attempt of wizard chess when he paused and looked at her, opening his mouth to say something and then didn’t.

“What is it Harry?”

He crossed his arms and looked down at his feet under the white sheets. “I-I saw the… grim. Again. Right before I fell.”

Heather bit her lip. She really shouldn’t be encouraging this but… “I saw it too! In the sky! Right before you fell. I couldn’t believe the clouds had really formed – ”

“It wasn’t just the clouds, Heather! The grim was actually there. In the stadium, a few seats above you.”

She stared at him. “Harry… The grim is an omen, a symbol… Not an actual living thing.”

He frowned. “But the dog, just before I almost got run over by the Knight Bus! It was there again!”

“Harry. The same thing being used as an omen makes it seem like the grim is a creature. The book says the death omen shows up in many places – it never mentions any creature actually BEING the grim.”

He raised his brow, “You’ve been doing research?”

She blushed. Just because it was ridiculous to think that Professor Trelawney was right about the grim didn’t mean she shouldn’t be studying it on her own just to be sure. Especially if it had to do with Harry and the fact that every year something horrible happens.

“I’ve been reading our textbook. So what? You should try it some time.”

Monday morning felt like the world was back to normal again. Harry was back and even Draco had ditched his sling once again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for Draco doing constant imitations and impersonations of dementors and Harry when he fell off his broom. Of course, it had been raining so hard that he wouldn’t have been able to see anything but a falling red streak, but everyone around him still laughed anyways.

Every chance Draco had to show off his horrible acting skills, he took. During potions he had decided that the best use of his time after he’d turned in his potion was to close his robes up all the way with the hood up and go around their table booing like a ghost.

“Shove off,” Ron pushed Draco back.

Draco laughed and went back to his seat.

“Why isn’t he doing anything?” Hermione was glaring at Professor Snape for letting Draco run around like that. “If that were me – ”

“Gryffindors would be at negative five-hundred points,” Harry rolled his eyes. “He’s a Slytherin though, so – ”

Heather scoffed. “Excuse me. But if that were ME I’d be serving detention for life. And I’m a Slytherin.”

“Well I’M not looking at any progress here and if I were you, I’d stop this bickering and get back to work.” Professor Snape narrowed his eyes at them. He looked down at Heather’s potion and tisked, “Done, I presume?”

Heather nodded and ladled her potion into her jar. “It looks like Malfoy’s… Doesn’t it?”

Professor Snape chuckled and snatched the jar from her hand, stalking away. She sighed and took out her potions guide and textbook, wondering where she was going wrong.

“OOOO!” Draco was back with his arms outstretched at Harry, bobbing up and down under his black robes.

“We said quit it!” Ron picked up the crocodile heart he’d accidently left out of his potion and threw it at Draco.

It smacked him right in the face and he stumbled back, holding his cheek. “Ow! Weasley!” he growled.

“Enough! Draco, back to your seat. Weasley,” Professor Snape glared at him, “Fifty points from Gryffindor. There will be no throwing – any – potions ingredients in my classroom. Get a mop and wipe that blood before someone slips on it.”

Ron nodded and ran out of the room for a mop.

“Only Gryffindor gets points taken away?” Hermione hadn’t even bothered to raise her hand.

Professor Snape made a growling sort of noise and looked away, sitting back at his desk with his arms crossed.

The bells rang and they packed up, walking out of the class in a hurry and stopped at a suit of armor just before the Defense classroom. They waited, looking down the corridor at everyone who walked by or walked into the classroom.

“No sign of Snape.”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t in there. Hermione, you check.”

Hermione walked over to the door and opened it a crack, peering inside. She gave them a thumbs up and walked in.

Professor Lupin was back behind his desk, looking more worn out than when they had first met him on the train. His clothes hung off him more loosely and he had deep grey circles under his eyes. Heather wondered how bad his cold had gotten since they talked. He hadn’t been in the hospital wing so he must have been in bed all weekend.

She opened her textbook as he asked the class how Friday’s lesson was and saw her essay on werewolves.

The class erupted and started calling out everything that had gone wrong that lesson.

“He gave us homework even though he was only filling in!”

“Two parchments? On werewolves? We don’t know anything about them!”

“ – TWO rolls – ”

Professor Lupin frowned. “Did you tell him we were on hinkypunks?”

“Yes, but he insisted!”

“ – And he said we were really behind – ”

“Well you can forget about the essays. I’ll speak to Professor Snape about all this. On to our lesson. Hinkypunks.” He pulled the cover off the tank on his desk to reveal a one-legged creature holding out what looked like a lantern.

There was smoke and mist floating all around the creature and only the lantern was crisply visible. Professor Lupin shut the windows and in the darkness they could make out the shape of it better, seeing that the hand holding the lantern had long claws and it’s pale eyes were glaring at everyone, watching them all carefully behind the glass as the yellow lantern light reflected dimly off its eyes.

“Tricky creatures, Hinkypunks,” Professor Lupin started the lecture and they began taking notes. “They lure people into bogs with the lantern. They follow the light into its den and then – ”

The Hinkypunk thumped against the glass and scratched with his caws. He tried biting his way free and ended up making a disgusting squelching noise, similar to that of a dead bloated mouse being stepped on.

The bells rang and Professor Lupin covered the Hinkypunk up again. They packed up and before Harry was out the door, Professor Lupin called him back. Heather, Hermione, and Ron left with everyone else, who seemed infinitely more happy about this lesson than the one from Friday with Professor Snape.

“Wait for me,” Ron headed to the boy’s bathrooms down a passageway.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t turn in the essay. I finished it Friday night.”

“I did too.” Heather added quickly.

“Well maybe Professor Snape will take it anyways,” Hermione turned to leave and Heather pulled her back.

“Are you mad? He’ll take more points off your house if you go talk to him now. I wouldn’t even try it after today’s lesson, and he doesn’t hate me as much as he hates you guys.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “He asked us to do this work. He HAS to give me points for it somehow.” She turned and left down the stairs.

Heather shook her head. Was Hermione hoping he’d include it in the grades for potions? She sighed and headed back to the Defense classroom, poking her head inside.

“Why were they at the match?”

Professor Lupin closed his briefcase, “They’re just hungry. And you were all a giant bowl of food for them to feast on.”

Heather let the door shut behind her. “The dementors?”

Harry nodded.

“Don’t worry, Professor Dumbledore won’t let them on the grounds again. They only came on because they’re supply of human prey has been taken away from them and with all the excitement on the Quidditch field – well – it was sort of like a feast, just waiting for them.” Professor Lupin leaned on his desk. “Professor Dumbledore wasn’t joking when he said they were dangerous.”

“How did Sirius Black escape them then?” Heather looked at Professor Lupin and noticed he seemed extra distant.

After a moment he responded. “Well, to begin with, the fortress is on a tiny island out in the middle of the ocean. But that’s not what keeps the prisoners stuck there. No. The walls and ocean isn’t even what I’d consider the prison to be. Azkaban is only the place that holds all those criminals locked inside their heads, unable to escape the misery inside their minds. Weeks, months, years… without a single happy thought… They’re all mad there. And defenseless. See, if you’re left too long at a dementor’s whim, they drain your magical powers…”

He hadn’t answered her question but the picture he had painted them in their heads was enough to stop her from asking again. It was all over wizard news about how dangerous Sirius Black is… and now she knew why. No wonder everyone at school always talked about how scary it was that he had escaped. And now he was after Harry, angry that Harry had defeated his master… She shuddered.

“But you made the dementor on the train go away… and Ron said Professor Dumbledore made them leave the field – ”

“There are defense spells to use against them… but the more there are… It was incredible hearing about how many Professor Dumbledore had been able to expel with only one use of it.” He stroked his chin, “Really wish I could have been there to see that.”

“Teach me?”

“Teach us,” Heather corrected. “Will it be part of this year’s lessons?”

“No – I’m no expert in fighting them, really. One on a train is the most – ” he looked at them and sighed. “If you really wanted to learn to fight dementors you should actually ask – ”

“I don’t need to learn to fight a whole bunch… just maybe one or two. If they show up on the quidditch field again… and come near me…”

“Who should we ask instead?” Heather was desperate to know who Professor Lupin thought was an expert in dealing with dementors.

“I don’t want anyone else to know about… what we talked about. Could you just show us? Just enough to do what you did? So that I could do that?” Harry cut Professor Lupin off before he could even speak.

Professor Lupin chuckled at the look of determination on Harry’s face. “If… you insist… I’ll help you two learn it – But these lessons will have to start next term, after the holidays. I’m hoping Professor Snape can tweak the potion just enough to have a stronger effect… so that I can recover from this illness quicker. Wizard colds can be real tricky sometimes,” he laughed.

Heather gave Harry a look and he groaned, keeping his mouth shut. “Alright then. After Christmas?”

Professor Lupin smiled, “Alright.”

They left the classroom to find Ron leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“What part of ‘Wait for me’ did no one understand? Where’s Hermione?”

Heather sighed, “Probably off getting more points removed from – ”

“I’m right here.”

They all jumped and turned behind them to see Hermione walking out of the ancient runes classrooms down the corridor.

“I just needed to ask my teacher a question.”

“Did you talk to Professor Snape?”

“Snape? We’re already down a hundred-fifty, please tell me – ”

“He took my essay and gave Gryffindor back a single point. Happy?” She crossed her arms. “ONE point? For two rolls?”

Heather couldn’t help but laugh. If Hermione got a point, then she was sure she could get Slytherin at least double. They headed down to the library to study, and after lunch she went down to Professor Snape’s office.

She knocked on the door three times and waited. The door swung open and she stepped in, her essay in hand. He was sitting at his desk grading papers when he looked up and rolled his eyes.

“Let me guess… The werewolf essay.” He stared at her as she approached and stuck out his hand for it, snatching it from her hand. He looked through it quickly and handed it back. “A point to Slytherin.”

“Just one?” She looked over her essay and frowned. “Was it worse than Hermione’s?”

“They were both awful, but at least yours was more concise. Yes. A point. What more do you want for doing your homework? Applause?”

She blushed and looked away, frowning. “Do I leave it here or…”

Professor Snape leaned back and curled a finger to his lips, tapping them as he thought. “Keep it,” he said slowly. “You never know when… it’ll come in handy.”

“But all this is in the textbook anyways.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, looking annoyed. “But I doubt Professor Lupin will manage to cover that this year.”

Heather nodded and walked out of his office, closing the door behind her. “We’re not THAT behind.” If he thought he could a better Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher why wasn’t he one already. She headed back to the common room and stuffed the two rolls in her trunk.

She looked around and closed the door, making sure Pansy and her other dormmates were not in sight. She very rarely got a chance to open up the books she had taken from the library. She picked up the transfiguration one and started a new section in her art journal. “‘Chapter one: Thirty supervise-required spells’.”

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	19. One Eyed Witch

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

It took a month, but Harry’s spirits seemed to finally have recovered fully from October’s horrible first game of the season. Heather noticed his mood change from quiet and constantly annoyed to loud and annoying but cheerful. The second Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff and Gryffindor was put back in the running, it confirmed for her how very simple Harry’s emotions were sometimes.

“Be quiet!” she hissed at him.

He rolled his eyes at her and leaned away from Ron and went back to stirring his potion.

She shook her head and glanced at Professor Snape who had been eyeing them from behind Neville. If it wasn’t for Neville’s inability to follow safety procedures, they’d have gotten yelled at and sent to detention already for all of Harry and Ron’s snickering.

“But could you imagine the look on Malfoy’s face when you flash a dementor away?” Ron looked over at a glaring Malfoy and back. “Make sure to flash them towards him.”

Harry held in a laugh and nodded. “There might not be any at my next match. Professor Dumbledore’s been keeping them away really well. The sky’s not even dark anymore.”

“Harry,” Heather hissed again. “Can you please focus on one class at a time? Your potion’s about to bubble over!” She took his stirring rod and dispersed the bubbles before they spilled over onto his dried cocoons and turned them to ash. “We still have two weeks before the holidays! And Professor Lupin still needs to feel better.”

Harry seemed to have calmed down and focused for the rest of class. The bells rang in the distance and it was time to turn in their potions. Heather packed her things and rushed to keep up with Harry and Ron who were attempting at bolting out the door to get as far away from Professor Snape as possible.

“Where’s Hermione?” Ron looked around.

Heather and Harry looked around too at all the exiting students and spotted her brown bushy hair already outside. She noticed them searching and waved at them from the corridor over everyone’s bobbing heads.

“How.” Ron frowned.

Heather narrowed her eyes at Hermione, feeling her suspicion growing. They were almost out the door when Draco called her from his seat.

“What’s he want?” Harry frowned.

She shrugged. “Probably Quidditch stuff… I’ll see you guys after lunch.”

They let her stay behind reluctantly and watched her make her way back down to the front of the class from outside the room before walking away.

She walked up to Draco who was leaning against his desk with Crabbe and Goyle right behind him, writing out stuff on long rolls of parchments.

“What were they laughing about, Potter? They kept looking over at me. Are they planning something?”

She almost laughed. “They’re not ‘planning’ anything. Harry’s just happy Hufflepuff’s not going to win the Quidditch Cup this year.”

Draco smirked and looked back at Crabbe and Goyle. “I didn’t know he’d be so excited for Slytherin’s victory.”

Crabbe and Goyle laughed and nodded.

“Focus.” Professor Snape’s voice made them jump and turn back to their rolls of parchment.

Heather looked back at him, absolutely astounded that he’d let students stay behind to finish what looked like extra assignments or to just hang out in Draco’s case.

“We’re playing Ravenclaw next, pretty sure. Flitwick still needs to decide on which team but they always think they have a chance against Slytherin’s for some reason. So I’m sure we’ll be playing them.”

Heather already guessed that by the way Marcus was making them practice the trickiest of plays that he normally saved for Ravenclaw. Her shoulders still ached from yesterday’s early morning practices.

Draco pushed himself onto the table and sat with his feet on a stool. “So, have you and your dumb brother found a way to get permission to go to Hogsmeade?”

Heather shook her head and smiled. “No. Why? Eager to see us there?”

His face turned pink and he scoffed. “As if.”

She heard a deep sigh and turned to see Professor Snape rubbing his temples at a botched potion he was holding up. He shook his head and set it back down among the other jars that had been turned in and sipped from his mug. She noticed four jars set aside and recognized one of them as her own, based on her crooked label. She smiled and turned away. Her potion had been grouped in with the other near perfect potions from class.

Now her sprit’s remained as high as Harry’s knowing that despite Professor Snape’s constant look of disgusts at her potions, she was at least on the same level as Draco and among the top in the class.

“Heather? Earth to Heather?” Hermione waved her hand in front of Heather’s face.

Heather blinked. “Hmm?”

“I SAID, what do you want from Hogsmeade? If I’m going to get you a present today I need to know and preferably before the line leaves.”

Mr. Filch was holding up the line, waiting for precisely twelve o’clock to let them go despite everyone being present and ready to leave a minute early.

She put a finger to her chin and thought. “I’d really like to start growing plants in my dorm. So maybe a nice pot? There are fallen leaves on the ground in the green houses that I’m sure Professor Sprout won’t miss.”

“Take one of the carnivorous ones with the long tongues and grow it next to Pansy.” Ron dodged Hermione’s hand.

“That’s a terrible idea Ron! Please tell me you won’t do that.”

Heather frowned and shook her head at Hermione and winked and nodded at Ron.

“Heather!”

“Oh of course not!” She crossed her arms.

Harry sighed. “Line’s moving. See you guys.”

They waved Ron and Hermione goodbye and watched them leave down the stairs.

“Go on, move away!” Mr. Filch shooed them away after all the other students had left.

Heather kept her eyes on the falling snow outside for a few more seconds before pulling Harry into the eerily quiet castle. They were on their way to the library, per usual during Hogsmeade weekends, when they were pulled behind a corner by Fred and George.

“Follow us young nifflers – ”

“And let your days of treasure hunting be over.”

Fred and George smiled wide and motioned for them to follow. They followed them into a nearby classroom and sat at one of the desks while they secured the door closed.

“What’re you guys doing?” Heather looked at them wearily as they checked all around the classroom.

“We have something to give you.” Fred walked back to them as George finished inspecting the closet.

George joined them. “Early Christmas present from us, to the both of you.”

“To share.” Fred winked and took out something from inside his cloak pocket.

He twirled it in his hand and smacked it down on the desk. Heather recognized it at once and turned to watch Harry’s bewildered reaction.

“Spare parchment? Very old spare parchment?”

Heather smiled. Harry didn’t know what it was.

George looked at Heather and winked. “No Harry, it’s more than that. This is how we do it.”

“Do what?”

Fred smiled wickedly. “Everything.”

“See, Harry,” George stood straight and put a hand to his heart. “Back when we were young little first years, we got in trouble with Filch.”

“He sent us to his office where we noticed a drawer labeled ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous’ while he yelled at us about the Dungbomb we let off in the corridor.”

“What’s so dangerous about old parchment?”

Fred chuckled and hit George’s shoulder. “He still doesn’t get it.”

George crossed his arms. “He really doesn’t.”

Heather tilted her head at the map. “Wait… Filch knows it exists?”

Fred shrugged. “Not sure if he ever found out how to work it. Being a squib and all.”

“But he probably guessed at what it was, r’else why would he have confiscated it?”

“But what IS it?” Harry reached for it, but George swatted his hand away.

“Let us finish Harry!” George opened the parchment up.

Fred took out his wand and tapped it.

Together they said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The second their mouths closed at the last sound the ink on the map began to spread from the point of Fred’s wand. It spread like a spider’s web and fanned out in every direction until the words began to blossom and turn green.

‘Messrs. Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aid to Magical Mischief-Makers

Are Proud to present

The Marauder’s Map’

Heather grinned, remembering how cool she thought it was. She looked over at Harry who looked beyond intrigued. George opened it further and suddenly every detail of Hogwarts was visible to them. They could see the castle, the grounds, the edge of the lake, and tiny ink blots moving around with tiny, scribbled names attached. There weren’t many in the castle, and even fewer out in the grounds.

“It’s a map… to all of Hogwarts?” Harry pointed at a dot labeled Professor Dumbledore, who was pacing back and forth in his office.

Heather pointed at Mrs. Norris, who was stalking around in the second-floor corridor. They spotted Peeves in the trophy room.

“Wait a second,” Harry gasped. “Are those – ?”

Fred grinned. “Secret passages.”

Heather frowned. “They lead to – ”

“Hogsmeade.” Fred and George chorused.

“Seven secret passages in all.” Fred tapped on four of them. “Filch knows about these. But these ones – ” He pointed out the three others. “We’re sure he has no clue ‘bout these.”

“This one’s caved in… And that one’s really dangerous. The Whomping Willow’s planted right over it so don’t even bother. This one though…” George grinned. “Right into Honeydukes’ cellar.”

Heather inspected the secret passageway they were talking about and noticed their little dot selves right next to it.

“The entrance is at that one-eyed humped witch statue outside the room here,” Fred pointed. “But something very important you have to remember.”

“You need to wipe it after you’re done.” George tapped the map with his wand.

“Mischief managed,” they both said and the map cleared.

“Money, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. We owe ‘em everything.” Fred said solemnly.

“Alright well, we’ll see you in Hogsmeade.” George tapped Fred’s shoulder and they both left the room.

Harry reached for the map but Heather snatched it up fast. “Harry. Have you forgotten we’re not supposed to go? It’s not safe?”

Harry took it from her hands. “Except if we had gotten the signatures we’d be there already! So technically… it’s fine.”

Heather huffed angrily.

“Besides. We’ll be going from Hogwarts directly to Honeydukes. So we can’t run into Sirius Black. It’s the safest way, really.”

Heather narrowed her eyes at him. He had a point and she hated it. “You know what the Weasleys say about magical artifacts… Dangerous ones Harry.” She waited for him to look at her. “If it can think for itself, and you can’t see where it keeps it’s brain – ”

“Don’t trust it,” he finished. “But Fred and George are Weasleys and have been using this thing for years. It’s fine, alright?”

She sighed, giving in. “Fine… meet by the witch in five minutes. You can’t go out like that. You’ll catch a cold.”

They snuck out of the room and went their separate ways, meeting back at the witch in their Weasley green sweaters and old hand-me-down knitted black hats. They stood by the witch and while Harry looked around for anyone, Heather opened up the map and traced her finger along the passage. She looked at the old crone and back down at the map and a tiny speech bubble had taken over the label of her name.

“‘Dissendium’,” she said and the witch began to move.

The hump opened wide enough to fit them one at a time.

“Quickly go, go!” Harry pushed her in.

She stepped in and felt a decline. “Lumos… Careful on your way down – AH!” Harry had knocked her over and they both tumbled down the slope onto earthy ground. Heather stood and dusted off. She picked up her wand and map. “Mischief managed,” she tapped it.

“I’ll hold it,” Harry reached for it.

Heather pulled it behind her back. “You have the cloak. I should have the map.”

“No way. If Pansy or Malfoy find it, then it’s good as lost. If Ron or Neville do then it’s still safe.” He reached around her and tore it out of her hands.

She pushed him away and straightened her sweater. She’d bring this topic back up later. It wasn’t fair he got to keep both things, especially since they were supposed to share it and own it together.

“Let’s go.” He led the way down the passage.

The passage curved and bent, twisted left then right until finally, after almost an hour, Harry tripped over stone steps. Heather picked him up and made her way up the steps, feeling something level graze her head as she climbed. She put her hands up and pushed, feeling the flat ceiling come loose.

She shifted the loose stone tile and pushed it back, poking her head up into what looked like a cellar full of barrels, crates, and large sack bags. She looked around and saw they were alone.

“Clear,” she whispered and climbed out.

Harry moved the stone tile back and headed for the wood steps. They heard laughter and voices and a distant high-pitched bell with the sound of a shutting and opening door.

A door opened nearby, and they jumped apart and hid behind boxes. A man came down the stairs and headed for the opposite wall, searching deep inside one of the barrels. She looked over at Harry and he jerked his head up. They both climbed back on the stairs and headed up and out of the cellar through the open door.

They were standing behind the counter and quickly ducked down, creeping out from behind and straightening out as they reached the main floor of the shop with all the candy and other people. There were so many Hogwarts students picking out treats and sweets that no one paid them any attention at all.

There were tall, curved shelves of sugar treats in jars, baskets, boxes, and tubes. There were all variations of cream consistencies, from frosty drinks to chewy nougat. There were squares and circles and swirls of colorful candy. And in a jar to Heather’s left were blue sugary springs that bounced and hit the glass lid, trying their very best to escape – or jump into her mouth. She wasn’t sure.

“Can you imagine how crazy Dudley would go here?” Harry laughed.

“I’d rather not.” Heather nudged him towards the door.

Harry stepped away from the rows of dark chocolate frogs and stopped at a barrel of exploding toffees. Heather remembered a second year in the common room eating one when it exploded in her mouth and got all over her teeth. She was picking it from her teeth for a week.

“You don’t want those.” She pulled him and spotted Ron and Hermione in the very back just as she reached the door. “Oh look!”

They headed to the ‘Unusual Tastes’ section and stayed quiet behind Ron and Hermione as they looked at a tray of blood-flavored lollipops.

“No, I don’t think they’d like those,” Hermione shook her head.

“What about these?” Ron held up a box of Cockroach Clusters. “They might – ”

“No. Well maybe Harry – ”

“Definitely not Harry,” Harry spoke up quickly.

Ron and Hermione jumped and turned around.

“How’re you two here!” Hermione frowned and crossed her arms.

“You two apparated?” Ron’s jaw dropped.

“You can’t apparate from Hog – ”

“Hogwarts, yeah.” Ron rolled his eyes. “How’d you two get here?”

Heather shushed Harry before he opened his mouth. “Too many sixth years here.”

Harry nodded. “What’ve you got so far?”

Ron opened up his bag of Honeyduke sweets. “Just the usual. Every Flavor Beans – ”

“Not every flavor,” Heather murmured.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Some Fizzing Whizbees, levitating sherbet balls – Hermione’s Toothflossing Stringmints – black pepper imps, Ice Mice, exploding bonbons, and sugar quills – also Hermione’s.”

“Restock,” Harry gave him a thumbs up and turned. “What should I buy?”

“You brought your money?” Heather looked at Harry incredulously.

“You buy loads of books with yours and I don’t complain.” He pushed Ron away and together went to look at the Jelly Slugs in their tank.

Heather and Hermione looked at each other and sighed before joining them.

“Oh, don’t try those.” Ron took the Acid Pops from Harry and put them back. “Fred gave me one once and it burned a hole in my tongue. Mum gave him a walloping with her broom after that.” He shivered. “Maybe I will get the Cockroach Clusters for Fred this year. I can put ‘em in a peanut box.”

They spent another hour looking at sweets and tasting as many samples as they could. In the end Harry ended up buying a large bag of sweets that he had to split and stuff into several of his cloak pockets. Heather walked over to Hermione who was standing by the door.

“It’s a blizzard outside,” Hermione said as Heather approached. “You’re lucky. Otherwise it’d be very easy to spot you in here.”

Heather nodded. “You know there was no stopping Harry. I had to go with him.” She dropped her voice, “I know more spells than him,” she smiled.

Hermione sighed. “How did you get here?”

Heather looked over at Harry and Ron who were making their way over to them. “We’ll tell you soon. Just not in here.”

Harry gave Heather a chocolate frog leg – still kicking – and bit into the other leg. “Where should we go?”

Hermione looked around. “Well. If it’s really that secret, we should talk in the Three Broomsticks.”

Ron cheered. “Butterbeer!”

They opened the shop door and stepped out into the blizzard, squinting hard and headed for the tiny inn.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	20. The Three Broomsticks

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather stepped out into the road outside of Honeydukes and jumped behind Harry and Hermione, shielding her face from the whipping wind and stinging snowflakes being thrown around them. They quickly ran down the street and entered the tiny inn before they froze in the blizzard.

The bartender woman smiled at them as they entered and went back to serving a loud group of wizards in the back, calming them down with another round of drinks and chips.

“Butterbeer’s two sickles.” Ron opened his hand.

They stuffed their hands in their pockets and pulled out the coins before making their way to a corner table while Ron got the drinks. They slipped in beside a Christmas tree and sat at the table. Heather looked out the window at the blizzard and shivered in her chair.

The inn was nice, far nicer than the Leaky Cauldron, and cozier too. There was a warm fire next to the bar and the heat radiated all the way to their back table in waves that followed the flames.

Ron came back holding two tankards of butterbeer in each hand and sat down next to Heather. “These’ll thaw us down.”

Heather slid her tankard in front of herself and hummed happily, keeping her hands on the warm wood and feeling the blood return to her hands. She tipped it into her mouth and drank the toasty liquid and set the tankard down with a clank.

“That’s amazing!” It was the most delicious drink she’d ever tasted. Better than eggnog even, and she loved sneaking sips from the Dursley’s eggnog cartons.

Now that their lips weren’t so frozen, Hermione reminded them of why they were there.

“Right… So,” Harry started, looking around. He leaned in and waited for them to do the same. “Fred and George gave us a map that shows all the secret passages out of Hogwarts.”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “They what?”

“They said they didn’t need it anymore, having memorized it all and everything,” Heather said quickly, seeing the face of betrayal Ron was making.

“It’s a secret map too, enchanted to look like normal parchment and everything. It’s really amazing.” Harry avoided Hermione’s eyes when speaking, seeing the look of shock wash away and concern replace it.

Hermione turned to Heather. “You’re going to turn that in immediately, aren’t you?”

Heather pressed her lips together, knowing that would be the right thing to do, if only she didn’t find that map incredibly useful, especially since it had come in handy once before and would come in handy way more, now that she was used to the idea of sneaking around the castle. “Well…”

“Well what?” Hermione demanded. “Do you three have any idea how dangerous that map is right now?” She lowered her voice, “With Sirius Black walking around TRYING to get in?”

“Succeeding, remember. He doesn’t need that map,” Ron reminded them.

“Exactly. Besides, if I handed it in, I’d have to tell on Fred and George. I’m sure Filch realized it was gone and would ask me where I got it. They’d get in trouble.”

Heather nodded in agreement, but knowing that was a horrible excuse. “And, Hermione, do you really think Professor Dumbledore doesn’t know about any of these passages? He knows everything about the castle – ”

“Except the Chamber of Secrets,” Hermione crossed her arms.

“R-right… but that’s different…” she bit her lip and looked to Ron for help.

“Uh,” Ron started. “A-and they came in through Honeydukes! We’d’ve heard about a break-in there if he knew about the secret passage they took.”

They all looked at Hermione who did not seem very happy but couldn’t argue against all of them.

Ron finished the discussion by pointing to a notice posted to the window, reminding them all of the dementors roaming around the village after sundown. “He’d have to break into Honeydukes during the day or risk getting caught by those things at night.”

Heather gasped suddenly, as she spotted emerald green robes walk past the window. There was a rush of air that pulled on their hair as the door opened with a ding of the bell and closed behind Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, and Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

Ron and Hermione pushed Harry and Heather under the table, hiding them from view. Heather watched their feet walk over to the bar, turn, and walk towards them. She heard Hermione whisper ‘Leviosa’ at the Christmas tree, levitating it several inches off the ground. Heather quickly took out her wand and whispered ‘Mobiliarbus’, helping Hermione move it over to cover their table.

Through the thick lower branches of the decorated tree, she saw four sets of chair legs move back at the table right besides theirs and heard creaks as they all sat down in their seats. A pair of sparkly high heels came clacking down to them.

“Gillywater, Minerva?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Four pints of mulled mead?”

“Ta, Rosemerta,” said Hagrid.

“Dry cherry soda?”

“Thank you, thank you!” Professor Flitwick squeaked.

“Your rum then, Minster.”

“Rosemerta, thank you m’dear. Won’t you take a break and join us? It’s lovely to see you again.”

“I’d love to, Minster.” There was a final thump and another chair got pulled back. The sparkly heels moved in front of the chair legs one at a time and with a creak of the chair, Rosemerta sat down.

It was the last weekend of term for the teachers too, and it looked like they were going to enjoy their time in Hogsmeade with the rest of the students. Heather looked to Harry, both knowing this meant they’d have little to no time to make it back to Honeydukes before it closed at sundown.

“What brings you down here, Minister?” said Rosemerta.

There was a pause and in a hushed tone, Cornelius Fudge responded. “I’m on the business of Sirius Black, m’dear. You heard what happened up at the school on Halloween, did you?”

“There’s been rumors.”

“If by rumor you mean Hagrid…” Professor McGonagall sighed.

“Is Black really still in the area? Is that why you’re down?”

“I’m absolutely certain of it.”

Hermione lightly kicked them after hearing the Minister’s words.

“Which means the dementors will be staying,” Rosemerta sounded annoyed. “They searched my pub twice last week – scared nearly everyone away.”

“I am sorry about that, m’dear. I don’t like them any more than anyone else does – those awful creatures – but they are necessary to keep everyone safe. I’ve just met a few and, well they’re in quite a mood. Dumbledore won’t let them in the castle and – ”

“And why would he?” Professor McGonagall cut in. “How can we teach with those horrifying things floating around above our heads? You know how many wizards experience severe reactions to them. Let alone young students.”

“Oh absolutely could not teach with them in my classroom,” Flitwick agreed.

“Yes. But however true that is, the dementors serve a purpose. They protect from something much, much worse. Remember what Black’s capable of.”

“We remember,” came Hagrid’s somber voice.

“I still can’t believe it. All these years and I just can’t,” Rosemerta sighed. “Sirius Black… of all people? I remember him and his friends back when they went to school… If you’d’ve told me any one of them could turn to the Dark Side I’d’ve said you had too much to drink.”

“You know he’s far worse than people realize.”

“What’s worse than murdering all those people, Minister?”

“You remember his best friend, don’t you, Rosemerta?” Professor McGonagall asked.

Rosemerta laughed. “How could I not? They were joined at the hip! Thick as thieves those, two. There was never one in here without the other. Oh, and they were the funniest pair of kids I’ve ever had in here. Quite the double act, those two… Sirius Black and James Potter… What boys they were.”

Heather choked on her breath. She squeezed her mouth between her elbow and coughed. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She stared at the sparkly heels and shook her head.

“A couple of troublemakers those two, but exceptionally bright – very bright minds. They were the ringleaders of their little gang. Those four…” Professor McGonagall trailed off.

“They were all good as brothers,” Professor Flitwick added.

Professor McGonagall continued. “Inseparable. He was best man at James’ wedding… In fact, James made Sirius godfather to his children.”

Rosemerta’s gasp echoed that of Heather and Harry’s. Why hadn’t they been told any of this? That’s why everyone was so weirdly intense about it all around them. That’s why Mr. Weasley thought they’d go looking… Because Sirius Black was they’re father’s best friend.

“Can’t imagine how that’d torment them to know,” Hagrid murmured.

“Because Black was on the opposite side as James? Black was in league with You-Know-Who?”

“Worse, m’dear. Far worse,” Fudge spoke up. “The Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore had many useful spies, and one of them tipped him off about it and he immediately alerted the Potters. He told them their best chance at hiding from You-Know-Who was the Fidelius Charm.”

“What’s that?”

“The Fidelius Charm,” Professor Flitwick put on his teaching voice. “Is a complex spell that conceals a secret inside of a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside that person and is impossible to find… unless that secret keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the secret-keeper never opens their mouth, the information could be right under your nose and you’d never find it in your lifetime or after.”

“The Potters made Black their Secret-keeper then?” Rosemerta whispered.

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall tapped her foot. “Naturally. Dumbledore offered to be the Secret-Keeper for them… but James told him that Black would rather die than reveal their location, that Black said he’d go into hiding for them… Dumbledore was still worried, however.”

“Did he suspect Black?” Rosemerta asked Heather’s question.

“He suspected someone among them – someone close to them – was keeping You-Know-Who informed. Everywhere the Potters hid, Death Eaters were not far behind.”

“And yet he insisted on having Black as his Secret-Keeper?”

“He trusted him,” whispered Harry.

Heather turned to him and stared into his eyes. He was too focused to notice.

“He did,” Fudge said slowly. “That only lasted a week of course… Just a week after the Fidelius Charm was performed… Black turned them into You-Know-Who sometime that week. Of course, little did You-Know-Who know that’d he’d meet his downfall facing little Harry Potter. All weak and powerless, he fled and died who knows where. With no master, Black was put in a very serious position. He was a traitor with nowhere else to go.”

Hagrid growled. “I met him that day. I musta bin the last to see him! I went down to rescue Harry an’ Heather from their house. It was me what took them to safety. I’d gotten there, seen all that ruin an’-an’ their parents lyin’ on the floor in front o’them… Harry with a big gash on his forehead. Then here comes Sirius Black, in that flyin’ muggle motorbike. He was all white an’ shakin’ in his boots, he was. AN’ I COMFORTED THAT MURDERIN’ TRAITOR!” Hagrid roared.

“Shhhhhh.” Professor McGonagall kicked him under the table.

“He wanted them, y’know. He asked me for them. But I said no. I’d had me orders to get them to their aunt and uncle’s house. He gave me his bike ter use. Said he wasn’t needin’ it no more.”

“It would have been too easy for the Ministry to trace,” Fudge said.

“At least the Ministry caught him next day,” Rosemerta said after a long pause.

“If only we had. One of their friends, Peter Pettigrew got to him before we did. Furious at him for betraying them. Fought Black as soon as he found him…”

“He had always been a poor duelist,” said Professor McGonagall heavily.

“Took a team of highly trained Hit Aurors from Magical Law Enforcement to take him down. I was a junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes… It was a sight to see. The giant crater and Black standing there… right in the center standing over bloody robes and… the remains.”

There was a long pause.

“Well, there it is, m’dear. Took twenty squad members to bring him into Azkaban, where he stayed for twelve years.”

“But he must be mad now, spending all that time in Azkaban.”

“You’d think that. No, I met him my last visit to Azkaban… Everyone else normally sits in their cell, muttering wildly to themselves, rocking back and forth, staring at the walls… Not Black. He spoke to me quite clearly. So normal, it was unnerving. He asked for my newspaper, ha! Must’ve been bored… How he managed to stay sane is beyond me. He was the most heavily guarded… dementors posted outside his door and barred window day and night.”

There was another pause and a clink of glass on wood.

“Minister, if you’re dining with the Headmaster today, we should get going,” said Professor McGonagall.

One by one they all got up and pushed in their chairs. Professor McGonagall’s emerald green robes swung back into place just at her ankles and slowly everyone but Rosemerta left the inn.

There was a flurry of snow that had blown in as the door swung closed, and Harry and Heather stayed sitting there in shocked silence. Heather was shaking her head, unbelieving everything they’d just said. She pushed everything away, hating it all. She hated knowing about her parents and their past, hating thinking they existed without them.

They were names and words, sounds without meaning. And now she knew her father had a best friend, and a group of loyal friends… and he was a troublemaker and a brilliant wizard and… he’d trusted his bestest friend with his life… and the life of his family… ‘Quite the double act, those two’… She shook her head again.

“Heather?”

“Harry?”

Heather and Harry looked up at Hermione and Ron, poking their heads down to check on them. The tree had been moved back and it was clear to come out. They sat back in their seats and sipped the butterbeer in silence. Ron and Hermione never spoke a word the rest of the time.

“We should head back,” Harry pushed his empty tankard away.

Everyone nodded and they slowly got up. They exited the Three Broomsticks and ran back to Honeydukes. They were told they were closing soon and the first chance they could, Heather and Harry snuck back down to the cellar, leaving Ron and Hermione standing worried and awkward alone at the door.

The tunnel walk back to the castle was quiet between them. She knew Harry had a million questions and wanted to talk to her. He kept glancing at her as they walked in the light of their wands, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the rocky ground.

When they were younger, she had always rejected the idea that their parents had died in a car crash. She’d told Harry stories about how they were simply dust clumps come to life for the sole purpose of annoying the Dursleys. And now she couldn’t stop thinking of two young boys running around Hogwarts, throwing dung bombs in the halls and getting yelled at by Filch. About a boy that looked very much like Harry, wearing ruby red robes and flying around in the Quidditch Pitch. About people laughing at his jokes.

She was brought back from her thoughts by Harry asking for the spell to open the witch up again. She mumbled the spell and let him lead her out.

In no time at all she was lying on her bed, face buried in her pillow, trying not to think about what James Potter would have been like as a father. He was a bright wizard… would he have been proud of her? She crawled under the covers and stayed there through dinner.

In the end, she decided it made no difference. She closed her eyes for bed as the other girls blew out their candles. If she didn’t care what her grandparents or great, great, great grandparents were like, why should she care what they were like?

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	21. Hagrid and Buckbeak

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather opened her eyes slowly and turned her head. Everyone was still in their beds, which meant she was up extremely early. She sat up and sighed, remembering what she’d heard yesterday. She dug around her trunk for her sweater and her skirt and went to take a long shower.

As she absentmindedly scrubbed her arms with one of the spongey things she’d bought over the summer from ‘Bath Bubbles and Scaley Scrubbers’, she thought of Harry, and what he was probably feeling, being the one who cared more deeply when it had to do with their parents. He was probably angry… maybe feeling hurt for them. He’d want to talk to her about it, wouldn’t he?

She didn’t really want to talk about a murderer who betrayed his best friend, or about anything really. She felt numb and detached from the world… she felt like a simple dust clump come to life whose had all these troubles thrust upon her unfairly… but Harry was all the family she had and if he wanted to talk… she’d listen.

She toweled down and got dressed. She headed for her room to see everyone still asleep and took out her herbology and art book, ready to do some studying and plant drawings. For several more hours she sat alone until the time to leave Hogwarts for the holiday break snuck up and before she knew it, the common room was alive with excited chatter about going home to mansions and rich parents.

Pansy made sure to tell everyone what she thought she was getting – something about a topaz encrusted dragon’s eye that’s supposed to help her pick out real gold from jewelry shops – and about how she couldn’t wait to see her famous explorer uncle, who had most recently ventured into the arctic and discovered the feather of a previously confirmed extinct bird. Every year, one way or another, Pansy would mention some new famous relative to connect to her already famous family.

The chatter died down as everyone left together and she was left alone. She wasn’t sure how many Slytherins had decided to stay behind, but she was sure well over half of them had left, if not all. No pureblood would be caught dead staying behind like ‘those muggle borns’ as she’d heard a seventh year say – except they didn’t use the word ‘muggle born’.

She sat by the fire studying, moving on to potions as she always liked to finish with that, and after an hour she heard a knock at the common room door. She got up and opened it to find Ron and Hermione standing looking apprehensive about something.

“Hey… Do you want to come in?” She swung the door open further but Ron shook his head.

“No way. I never want to go in there again.”

“Heather we’ve been practicing all morning and – well Harry’s still asleep and we’re worried.”

She nodded and told them to hold a moment while she put all her things away in her room. She stepped out and walked with them back to their tower, talking the whole way.

“How are you feeling after yesterday?” Hermione glanced at her, clearly not wanting to seem too worried and failing.

“I’m fine. What were you saying about Harry?”

“We were thinking of making sure he wasn’t going to go and do anything stupid.” Hermione lowered her voice, “Like sneak out and try to capture Black himself.”

“He sounded real mad last night in his sleep, mumbling angrily.” Ron whispered the password and the portrait swung open. “At least I think he was asleep. He kept turning and fixing the blankets. I got so tired watching him I fell asleep.”

Heather looked around at all the red everywhere and gold-framed portraits of lions and sat down facing the window, glad to add any other color to her vision. Ron moved his game of chess and offered Heather the first game.

“When he gets up, we can tell him how awful the idea of going after him is. And if we’re all in agreement, maybe he’d see we’re right,” Hermione looked at her again. “We ARE all in agreement, aren’t we?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Of course we are. It’s the Ministry’s job to get him, not ours – Wait can I move this here? – And besides, the last thing I want is to get involved with anything to do with You-Know-Who and his followers. We’ve dealt with him enough.”

“Even if Black betrayed your parents?” Ron gave her a different sort of look.

“Ron,” Hermione hissed. “What is your goal here?”

He frowned, “Nothing I just – I kind of get where Harry’s coming from… But I don’t really get where – ”

Heather picked up her fallen queen and shifted the board towards Hermione. “Look. He betrayed my parents. Not me. His business should be with them, not me and Harry. We’re not our parents.”

Ron pressed on. “But aren’t you mad FOR them?” Hermione pinched his arm. “Ow!”

At that moment the boy’s dormitory door creaked and they all stood up, waiting for Harry to come down the stairs. He looked around and rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses up with his knuckles. “Where’s everyone?”

Heather laughed, “Gone home. Did you forget what day it was?”

“Yesterday was end of term! It’s first day of holidays today!” Ron jumped up and opened his arms, motioning to the empty room. “It’s all ours now.”

Hermione stepped forward and looked Harry up and down. “How’d you sleep? You look… tired.”

Harry frowned. “Fine.”

Hermione nodded and looked around at them. “Harry, we wanted to say – We know you must be very upset about what we heard. But I think it would be very foolish to want to go do something about it.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Do what?”

“Go after Black yourself,” said Ron, trying to stand like Hermione was, with his chin held slightly higher.

Heather looked away and sat down, letting them handle it.

“Just tell us you won’t. Please?”

Ron dropped his posture, looking very genuine. “He’s not worth dying for.”

Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed Harry’s face turn towards her. “Every time a dementor gets near me, I hear my Mum scream and plead Voldemort not to kill us.”

Heather closed her eyes and looked away. Something tugged at her heart. She tried to push out the image of her mom begging for their lives. She must have loved them a lot, as much as she loved Harry, to be begging You-Know-Who. She shook her head and opened her eyes. Harry’s attention was back on Ron and Hermione.

“Imagine it was your mothers. Screaming like that. A-and their friend who sent Voldemort after them was out there, free – ”

“So what would you do that the dementors couldn’t do?” Heather stood up and crossed her arms. “Why not leave it to the Ministry! It’s their problem, not yours.”

Harry stepped forward. “Fudge said Black wasn’t effected by dementors. Azkaban isn’t any real punishment for him!”

Ron tensed up. “You’re not saying – You don’t want to kill Black, do you?”

Hermione quickly cut in, “Oh of course not! Harry doesn’t want to – to kill anyone, right?”

Harry didn’t respond. Heather frowned and felt her anxiety rise again. She shifted her weight, hoping she didn’t have to start worrying about Harry really actually doing something foolish. She thought he’d just be upset, angry, not – vengeful. Would he really go after Black?

He looked at Heather. “Malfoy knows, remember? In potions he said – ”

“Who cares what Malfoy said?”

“Are you really suggesting taking Malfoy’s advice instead of ours?” Ron looked offended. “Malfoy’s? He WANTS you to go chase after Black! He must know what happened to Peter Pettigrew – You know what Pettigrew’s mum got? His order of Merlin, First Class, and his finger.”

Harry was clearly not listening, shaking his head at the abandoned game of chess. “His dad must have told him. He was in Voldemort’s inner circle – he could have been friends with Black – !”

Hermione started sobbing. “Harry! You mustn’t go looking for him! Black wants you to go looking for him so he can kill you! Don’t give him what he wants. Your mum and dad wouldn’t want you to go putting yourself in danger for them!”

“I’ll never know that, will I? Because of him.”

Heather shook her head, “Except you do, don’t you? You said you hear our Mother pleading for our lives. So you know she’d want us safe – and alive.”

Everyone stayed silent as Heather’s words settled in Harry’s head.

Ron swallowed. “Let’s head down to Hagrid’s. It’s nearly Christmas and we haven’t gone down to see him in ages!”

Heather nodded desperately, needing fresh air and any distraction at all.

“No!” Hermione shook her head furiously. “They can’t leave the castle! They’re supposed to – ”

“Yes! Let’s go.” Harry turned back around and headed up the stairs. He stopped at the landing and looked down at them, “I think I’d like to know why Hagrid never told us all this.”

Heather smacked her hand to her face.

Ron looked around quickly. “Or we could play more chess! I’ve already beaten Heather and Hermione! I’m undefeated so far – Or actually we could play Gobstones! Percy told me he left a set in his room – ”

“No. We’re visiting Hagrid.” Harry turned away from them and walked into the boy’s dorm, slamming the door shut.

Hermione wiped her face. “Well that went horribly.”

They got their cloaks and Ron managed to find an extra one from the lost and found for her so they wouldn’t have to go into the dungeons for her to fetch hers. They left the tower and headed down and out of Hogwarts towards Hagrid’s hut, wading through the snow as they walked.

The four of them walked in a line down the lawn, led by a very determined Harry. They made a deep trench in the powdery, glittering snow that went up to their knees. The blizzard had stopped and the whole world looked as still as a muggle painting. The forbidden forest sparkled white and Hagrid’s tiny hut looked absolutely cozy among all the snow.

They stomped up the steps, trying to shake off the frozen snow stuck to their cloaks and socks, and waited as Harry knocked. There was no answer. Unlike Professor Snape, Hagrid normally answered as immediately as possible, happy to greet whoever visited. They pressed their ears to the door and heard Fang whining, along with another weird sort of noise.

They pulled back and looked at each other.

Harry frowned and started knocking on the door as hard as he could. “Hagrid! Are you in there? Hagrid?” Harry paused his knocks long enough to listen.

Heavy footsteps approached and then the door slowly creaked open. Hagrid looked down at them with red swollen eyes and a pink nose. Tears dripped off his nose like a leaky faucet, splashing onto his damp beard.

“Yeh’ve heard!” He opened the door further and pulled Harry and Hermione in for hugs.

Ron and Heather looked at each other and shrugged quickly before Hagrid ended the hug. Harry looked back at them bewildered and before he could open his mouth, Ron and Hermione led Hagrid into one of his chairs. Harry and Heather walked in and shut the door as Hagrid slumped over the table and continued sobbing.

Harry looked down at the table and slid an envelope towards them. “Is this – ?”

Hagrid nodded and pulled out the letter, handing it back to Harry. “Read that.”

Harry handed the letter to Heather and she cleared her throat. “‘Dear Mr. Hagrid, Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibilities for the regrettable incident. – ’”

“That’s great news!” Ron clapped Hagrid on the back.

Heather cleared her throat again. “‘However, – ’”

Ron’s smile shrunk and he pulled his hand back.

“‘We must register our concern about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be handed off to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place April twentieth, and we ask you to present yourself and the hippogriff in question at the Committee’s office in London on the previously mentioned date. In the meantime, safety measures should be taken for the safety of other wizards and witches. The hippogriff should be tethered and isolated from the public and the other hippogriffs in your care. Yours in fellowship … ’” Heather scanned the list of governors and handed back the letter.

“Well,” Ron bit his lip. “You said Buckbeak wasn’t a bad hippogriff so surely when they see him they’ll see that.”

Hagrid lifted his forehead off the table and shook his head before thumping it back down. “Yeh don’t know them Committee fer the Desposal o’ Dangerous Creatures. They wouldn’t know innocent an’ friendly if they stepped in it.”

There was a loud huff and the four of them turned around quickly. Buckbeak was sitting on Hagrid’s rug by the fire, tearing into something raw and bloody with Fang resting under his wing. He rubbed at his beak with his talons and cooed at them.

Heather sighed. Normally Hagrid always confused dangerous for cute and cuddly, but this time she was afraid he was right. Buckbeak looked no more a threat than Fang did, both lying there, enjoying the warmth of the fire and each other.

Hermione sat down on a chair opposite Hagrid and placed her hands flat on the table. “You’ll need a good defense, Hagrid. You’ll need to prove Buckbeak’s innocence with character witnesses – in person is better but I’m sure they’ll accept letters – ”

“Are you a lawyer now too?” Heather tried not to smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“That won’t matter!” Hagrid sighed into the rough wood of the table. “Lucius Malfoy has them all in his pockets. If I lose the case, then Buckbeak’ll…” He sobbed and sat up, cheeks glazed with fresh tears, and slid his finger over his throat. He sobbed again and fell back onto the table, wailing painfully at the thought.

“W-what about Dumbledore? Can’t he – ?”

Hagrid shook his head. “He’s done so much fer me already. I can’t ask him fer more. He’s got keepin’ those dementors out of the castle – and Black still lurkin’ about.”

Harry sighed, looking very troubled but understanding. He put a hand on Hagrid’s large arm and squeezed tight. “Don’t give up Hagrid. Hermione’s right about building up your defense. In fact – we’ll be your witnesses!”

Hermione nodded. “I’m sure there are plenty of cases to look at that could help us too!”

Heather put a finger to her chin. “Are there wizard libraries outside of Hogwarts? Maybe we could ask Madam Pince to have them send – actually, asking Madam Pince anything sound like a horrible time – but we’ll do it for you Hagrid, if it helps Buckbeak!”

Hagrid howled loudly and they all looked at each other, unsure of what more to say.

Ron picked up a kettle. “Do you want tea?” He looked at them and shrugged. “Mum always makes tea when someone’s crying.” Ron filled it with water and hung it over the fire, careful not to disturb Buckbeak, and soon the water was steaming.

Within minutes Hagrid had a fresh cup of tea and a box of tissues by his side, placed down by Hermione.

Hagrid blew his nose into a handkerchief the size of a towel and dried his tears. “Yeh’re all right. I gotta pull meself together… Too much to do to let meself go ter pieces.”

Fang got up from cuddling Buckbeak and placed his chin on Hagrid’s lap.

“Needa get back ter being meself. I got more responsibilities now – even if no one’s likin’ me classes – ”

“We like your classes,” Hermione bit her lip.

“They’re really… interesting,” Ron nodded slowly.

“How’re the flobberworms?” Heather remembered reading about them being picky about cold temperatures.

“Dead,” Hagrid said glumly.

The corners of Ron’s mouth were twitching. “Because of the snow?”

Hagrid shook his head and slurped more of the tea. “Too much lettuce. An’ on top of e’rything else – those ruddy dementors! Gotta walk past ‘em every time I want to get meself a drink from the Three Broomsticks. Almost like being back at Azkaban – ” He finished his tea.

They were all quiet.

Heather tapped on the table with her finger. “Is… it awful there?”

Hagrid looked into his empty teacup. “Yeh’ve no idea. Bein’ ‘round ‘em dementors makes all yer worst memories come back, playing like pictures, over an’ over in yer mind. I thought I was goin’ mad in there. Every time I slept I hoped I wouldn’t wake up again. After a few days yeh can’t remember who yeh really are. No point in livin’ after that…” He sighed and looked at them, shaking his head. “When they let me out it felt like bein’ born again. Was the best feeling in the word, getting’ all me happiness again, all at once… Course the dementors weren’t happy to let me go.”

He stared behind them at Buckbeak. “Thought ‘bout jus’ lettin’ Buckbeak go… Lettin’ ‘im fly free – but how can I explain to ‘im he can’t be seen around here? He’s a hippogriff. He’d want to come back an’ see his friends an’ get fed.” He sniffed. “An’ I don’t want to break the law an’ get sent back ter Azkaban.”

They were all quiet after that, and this time none of them broke the silence. Eventually Hagrid stood up and saw them to the door, thanking them each for being there for him and wanting to help out. He closed the door slowly and left them standing on his small snowy porch.

They all looked at each other and nodded, silently agreeing to head to the library and begin their search for anything and everything that could help their friend. They trotted back up the snowy slopes quickly and jumped up the stairs, careful not to slip and fall. The last thing they wanted was to get yelled at by Mr. Filch about all the snow they were tracking in.

They headed into the library and very slowly, Heather felt a smile pull on her lips. As sad as it was to see Hagrid in such distress, she was glad for the distraction. Not one of them brought up Black again, and everyone was nose-deep in books about hippogriffs and the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. She felt at ease and put all her focus on Buckbeak’s case for the rest of the day.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	22. The Mysterious Broom

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Heather skipped through the corridor, smiling at the mysterious lights shining from inside every suit of armor, her heavy bag bumping against her thigh with every leap. The air smelled of toasted pumpkin pies and syrupy-thick sugary drinks with nutmeg, the halls sparkled brightly from the outside light reflecting off the streamers hung from ceiling corner to ceiling corner.

The halls echoed her shoes and the thumping of presents as she made her way to Gryffindor tower, presenting herself to the portrait of Sir Cadogan.

“Here to duel me, are you? Well head my warning! I never lose!” He raised his sword up and jumped into fighting stance, his horse yawned in the background.

Heather rolled her eyes and knocked on the portrait.

“Fight me!”

The portrait opened and Hermione jumped and hugged her close. “Merry Christmas!”

Heather groaned under her tightening hug. “Hermione! Too tight!”

Hermione pulled away and stepped aside to let her in. Heather took a seat by the fire and ate some toasted round nuts from a bronze saucer while Hermione got her presents down from her room. They snacked and talked about how nice it was to have windows and be so high up and be able to look down at the white castle grounds in the winter.

As much as Heather loved how green and dark and mysterious the lake looked through the Slytherin common room’s massive window, she did wish she could look out onto the grounds during autumn and winter sometimes. The lake always looked the same no matter the season.

The clock over the mantel had struck ten and Hermione decided to go wake Ron and Harry. Within minutes the three of them were running down the stairs and diving into seats next to Heather, ready to exchange and open presents.

Harry fixed his crooked glasses. “Alright. Weasley presents first.”

They took the lumpiest parcels and shredded it open. They had each gotten brand new knitted sweaters in their respective house colors along with knitted socks, a dozen mince pies – home-baked of course – with a box of nut brittle to top everything off.

“I love her sweaters!” Heather looked at her brand new green sweater with a silver snake knitted at the front instead of a giant letter ‘H’. She looked at Harry’s sweater and smiled. “Your old sweater is getting a little short on you right?”

Harry nodded and crunched on some nut brittle. When Harry had gotten an emerald green sweater with the letter ‘H’ stitched inside she had been more excited that eventually she’d get that one too than the fact they were twins and could finally match like twins always did.

They opened cards next, not signed but it did mention studying hard and they figured it was one of the ‘lame’ teachers – as Ron put it – wishing them a Merry Christmas.

“Hagrid’s next?” Ron picked up a parcel that behaved a little too much like a giant rock wrapped in brown paper.

They agreed and together heaved their rock-like packages forward and began opening it. They stared at the contents for a while.

Ron blinked several times. “A rock? It’s a rock.”

They had each received a large jagged lump of muted brown with specks of black and swirls of dark grey. Heather tipped her rock over and saw a carved wooden grater. She picked it up and scraped it down the side, watching as little brown shaving came off the rock with ease.

“Ohh!” Hermione waved the little card around that had come stuck to the brown paper. “They’re ‘Brazilian Cocoa Danburites from Erosional Caverns’ according to Hagrid.”

Heather stuck her finger in the shavings and sucked them off her thumb. “Mmm!” Her heart soared with delight at the thought of being able to scrape cocoa into warm butterbeer all year long. Sometimes Hagrid really knew the perfect gifts to give. She wrapped it back up and put it aside. “Next?”

“Mine,” Hermione pushed several presents out from behind her and handed them out.

Heather opened hers quickly, excited to see what Hermione had found after she had told her she wanted a nice pot. She rolled out the object and gasped at the beautifully painted silver pot. It was small enough to hold in one hand but large enough to grow a good sized large-leafed plant. “It’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” Hermione smiled. “I painted it myself – but don’t worry. I made sure the paint wouldn’t mess with the charms.”

She looked at the pot again with new eyes. “Charms?” She hadn’t even considered that wizard pots would have charms and spells put on them.

“Yeah. The witch said this one is good for beginners because it creates the perfect environment for the plant so it’s harder to kill it.”

Heather raised a brow. “Thanks for your confidence in my herbology abilities. You know I got a better score than you on my giant hogweed plant last week.”

“What are you trying to say with this, Hermione?” Harry lifted a long orange comb. He pressed a button and the teeth started moving like on a chainsaw.

Ron laughed. “Alright, I agree with her on that gift for you.”

Heather laughed and poked a very unamused Harry with currently long and untidy, shaggy hair. Ron had received a bag of candy and a bottle of grammar ink and it was now his turn to give them each a can of butterbeer. They opened them up and drank while they unwrapped Heather’s presents that were actually rocks but painted to look like their faces. They laughed at that and opened Harry’s next, which were some left over vanilla cakes from Honeydukes.

Ron who was already stuffing his face with a vanilla cake pointed at a long thin package forgotten under the coffee table. “Harry, you forgot that one.”

“Oh.” Harry bent down and placed it on the table, moving all his presents aside. “It doesn’t have a note.”

“Who’d send just you a present?” Heather crossed her arms, feeling a ‘famous Harry Potter’ moment coming on.

Harry smiled and wriggled his eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Maybe if you’d open it,” Ron handed him one end of the twine holding the brown paper together.

Harry pulled the twine free and slid out the present, gasping as a brand new slim and shiny broomstick hit the table. “I don’t… I can’t believe…”

Heather’s jaw dropped and Ron almost jumped out of his seat. Hermione took the paper and immediately started looking for a note.

“A new broom? Why? How? Who – ?” Heather ran her finger down the handle and gasped, feeling electricity run through her body, immediately reminding her of the feeling of wind through her long tangle-y hair.

Harry only shrugged and picked it up, the handle glittered as it moved, perfectly polished. The firebolt was identical to the one Harry had been looking at during their stay at Diagon Alley. He stood up and Heather with him, followed by Ron, all eager to see it in action. Harry let go suddenly and the broom stayed hovering in the air, ready to be mounted and used to surely win any Quidditch game against anyone.

“It’s amazing,” said Harry hoarsely.

“But, but who sent it?” Hermione was now retracing Harry’s steps, yelling from the bottom steps a few feet away. She ran upstairs looking all over the ground. “It’s not your aunt and uncle, right?”

“No way,” Heather and Harry unisoned.

Ron took a step closer and started walking around it, taking in every detail. “Must have been Dumbledore then! Like with your invisibility cloak!”

Heather shook her head, getting pushed by Harry. The three of them were now walking around the broom. “No, he only did that because it was our father’s.”

“Or,” Ron continued, “It is from him, but he can’t say it’s from him because then gits like Malfoy would say it’s favoritism!”

Heather stopped and Harry and Ron bumped into one another. “That WOULD be favoritism.”

Ron wasn’t listening. He pulled Harry’s sweater sleeve, “Wait ‘till Malfoy sees this! He’ll get as red as a tomato seeing you fly on this thing! It cost more than all the Slytherin brooms combined! And FASTER.”

“If it’s even allowed,” Heather was starting to panic now. This broom was the fastest out there. Any team who played against Harry would surely lose in under a minute. “This broom might not – ”

Ron crossed his arms and faced her, “It’s an internationally standard broom, this is. Malfoy. Will. FREAK.”

Harry’s smile widened, lighting up his eyes. “This… This is great!”

Ron started jumping up and down and hooting with glee. Heather crossed her arms and sank into one of the chairs, throwing a pillow down angrily. She’d never hear the end of this now. What little popularity she’d started to cultivate in her house would surely all whisk away the moment any of them saw Harry’s new broom. They’d all look at her like it was her own fault he got the better broom. And she could hear it now from Pansy and Draco, ‘Why’d we get the worse twin in our house,’ and ‘Can’t you try not to be a failure for once, Heather?”

How was she supposed to compete when every wizard, baby and old, knew and loved Harry Potter, the boy who lived, defeater of You-Know-Who. For all they knew it could have been a random fan who heard Harry broke his broom from a dementor attack. She sighed and crossed her arms, kicking at the pillow she’d thrown down.

Ron was still laughing when an even worse thought popped into her head. She was the one who convinced her team not to play last match! With Harry’s new broom, everyone will be wishing they’d played him before he broke it! Now that really was her fault. She squeezed her cheeks, zoning out on the broom, and pulled them down in agony. She was doomed.

“What,” Ron tried ceasing his laughing fit. “What about Lupin!”

Harry pulled his arm back from the broom and laughed. “Lupin? If he had this much gold, he’d buy himself new robes.”

Ron shook his head. “But he likes you! Besides he went somewhere, so he could have gone to Diagon Alley. Maybe he heard what happened and decided to buy it for you while he was out.”

Heather tuned back in. “Went somewhere? Went where? He was sick the whole time.”

Ron shrugged. “Well he wasn’t in the hospital wing. I had to clean the bedpans for Snape’s detention before I could go to the match. And after your match, he still wasn’t there.”

“He must have been sick in bed.” Heather rolled her eyes. It was so easy for Ron and Harry to jump to conclusions. It certainly wasn’t Lupin who sent the broom.

Hermione came back down with a look of worry. “I searched under your beds and the note didn’t fall in there.” She’d been searching for a dropped card the whole time they were examining the broom.

“Alright.” Ron narrowed his eyes at her.

She bit her lip. “Not alright… I mean… It’s weird. Like you’ve been saying, it’s an expensive broom… It’s odd that Harry would just receive one.”

Ron stepped forward. “Loads of people love Harry! Any one of them could’ve gifted the broom.”

“But who would want to keep it anonymous that they sent it?”

Ron must have guessed where she was going because he quickly turned to Harry. “Can I ride it? Let’s go test it out outside! Play with Fang again.”

“No!” Hermione put her hands up. “N-not yet! None of us should ride it yet.”

“Well what else should we do with it, Hermione? Sweep the floors?” Ron scoffed.

Before Hermione could get mad at Ron, they heard banging and tumbling coming from the boy’s dormitories. They all turned towards the sound.

“You didn’t leave the door open, did you!” Ron ran for the stairs. “Scabbers!”

Hermione looked apologetic and ran after Ron. “Crookshanks is just playing!”

Heather remained seated, looking at the broom. Harry went back to inspecting the golden engraving.

From upstairs they could hear Ron yelling. “GET. THAT. MONSTER. OUT. OF. HERE!”

“NO CROOKSHANKS, DON’T GET IN THERE!”

There was a high pitched warbling noise suddenly. Heather and Harry ran up to see what had happened. Heather clapped her hands to her ears and stared inside Harry’s trunk. Crookshanks was hiding and Scabbers was trying to dig further into Ron’s pocket, trying to get away from the noise.

“Ah,” Harry picked up a round object – the pocket sneakoscope – and stuffed it into a sock. It was still going so he shoved it under as many clothes as possible until it was barely audible.

Hermione took the chance to pick Crookshanks up as he recovered from hissing at the noise. “There, I’ve got him.”

Ron pointed at the door. “Great. Then get him out!”

“You don’t have to yell!”

“Just keep that bloody vicious monster away from my rat! He’s trying to eat him, Hermione! Not play! They aren’t pals!”

Hermione huffed and ran out of the room.

Ron slammed the door shut and took Scabbers out, putting him on his bed. “It’s alright, that evil creature’s out now.”

Heather eyed Scabbers and shared a look with Harry. As much as Ron was trying to keep him alive, it looked like Scabbers would soon pass naturally anyways. Once so round, he was now thin as toothpicks. His hair was in patches and his ears drooped. He normally would have scampered away and now lay on the bed, unable to gather the energy to bolt – although that may have been because minutes ago he was running for his life. But still. He didn’t look good.

“Have you been giving him that rat tonic?” She didn’t think it’d help much if he was. She doubted the tonic could put off death.

“Yeah, but it’s not helping.”

Harry sat down on the bed next to him. “Maybe it’s just stress,” he put a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

Ron nodded and tucked Scabbers into bed. “You rest. That stupid furball with teeth is gone.”

They left the boy’s dormitiories and Ron shut the door tight. They walked downstairs to Hermione, who was sitting with her arms crossed.

“Crookshanks is in my room. I’ve closed the door.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

Ron was being unnecessarily harsh but no one said anything. Hermione really should be more careful with that cat. Heather sat down on the couch and looked at the fire, staring at Harry’s broom as darkly as Hermione was.

She was trying to come up with plans to get him to not use it. But none seemed fair or plausible. His Head of House would obviously be more than happy to let him use it… and Professor McGonagall would surely fight anyone who suggested it was unfair. Not like Professor Snape would help her with the problem, even if it did concern his own team. He’d probably help Harry just to spite her…

She shook her head. No, he hated Harry more, he’d choose her over him any day. And Lupin wouldn’t do anything, he liked them both equally. She couldn’t owl Draco either, since he wasn’t supposed to know. She creased her eyebrows, getting really worried now. What if she got kicked off the team for ruining their chances?

For the second year in a row they’d lose the House Cup because of her. Well, she sunk deeper in her brooding state, last year wasn’t her fault either. She didn’t know she was picking the wrong tunnel, just like she didn’t know he’d receive a brand new broom – best in the world broom. Marcus would understand… wouldn’t he?

No. She could see it now. Cassius standing up on the crystal coffee table, right before the team left for practice. ‘Are you sure you want a traitor like Potter on your team Flint? She planned this. She KNEW Harry Potter would get a better broom. She’s one of them! She wishes she was a Gryffindor. She’s betrayed us.’ Marcus would turn to her and only shake his head, indicating her permanent termination from the team.

All the small friendships she had started to grow would be put out in an instant, too. No one would want to be friends with the Slytherin House’s personal enemy. Even the girl who sleeps next to her, the nice one she’d found out, whose name is Cindy and let her borrow a few berries to give to her toad, would ignore her. If even Cindy would ignore her, she could only imagine how bad Pansy would get.

Pansy would start bullying her again, but worse. Before she’d just be annoying and no one would care. Now her mean spirited jokes would make her more popular. Heather shuddered to think.

Harry wiped a soft cloth over the broom’s handle where Ron touched it. Heather frowned at them. But she wasn’t going to sabotage Harry’s chance at playing on a broom. She couldn’t. Could she? Maybe she could just tell him how bad this would be for her. Have him use her broom and hide that one away until next year or something. She closed her eyes in frustration, realizing why it wouldn’t work. But they had to play each other eventually! Thanks to her stupid dumb plan from earlier!

She should have kept her mouth shut. Then Marcus would have a losing team and Heather would not be associated with it at all. Next year he would’ve stayed clear of Cassius for sure, thinking he was some sort of bad luck.

She had a sudden realization. She wondered… could she hint at Draco to get a broom like that before he came back to Hogwarts? Harry and Ron were still wordlessly drooling and Hermione was still brooding in her corner, glaring at the poor broom.

Heather got up. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to put my things away before lunch.” No one said anything as she picked up her bag full of presents and left the room. She closed the portrait and ran down the steps.

She bolted down the main floor corridor and took the dungeon steps two at a time, knocking into something so hard they both fell down.

“Potter!”

She stood up quickly and jumped back against the wall, quivering at the familiar deep voice that had just yelled.

Professor Snape shook his long hair slightly and dusted off angrily. He stood towering like he normally did when a student mouthed off to him. “Next time I hear or see you running down those stairs you will receive a day’s detention for every step.”

Her brain was numb with adrenaline and for some reason the only thing she could think to say was, “There’re thirty-six steps.”

He frowned and looked at the stairs. “Then that’s thirty-six days of detention you’ll be facing… So don’t do it again. You’re lucky I wasn’t carrying any potions or I’d have you clean the whole dungeon floor before dinner.”

Heather nodded and fixed her stance. She realized her arms were spread on the wall like she was being cornered by a ferocious wild cat of the mountains. She pulled her bag closer. “Sorry, Sir.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why all the rush, Potter.”

“Just… need to send Draco a letter. As soon as possible.”

He arched his brow but said nothing. He turned, apparently deciding the interrogation was over, and swept up the stairs.

Heather breathed out, amazed she hadn’t gotten expelled right then. Maybe it was a sign things couldn’t possibly get any worse. She smiled and ran to the common room door. She wrote a quick letter, trying to stealthily hint at Draco to buy the newest broom and ran back out – walked up the steps – and ran all the way to the owlery to pick the perfect owl to send.

She made it back just in time to climb a few stairs and bump into Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their way to lunch.

“Why’re you sweating?” Harry stopped and stared.

She shrugged, “I bumped into Professor Snape… I thought he’d expel me for it. He didn’t.”

That was enough for them so they headed down to lunch together in the same quiet silence as the morning had ended up being.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	23. An Unfortunate Christmas

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Heather, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way down to the great hall in silence. Hermione was still mad at Ron for criticizing her cat, and Ron was still upset with Hermione for owning a rat craving creature.

The large great hall doors were decorated with long tinsel that hung from the very top and dragged along the bottom as the doors opened. Entering the room, Heather gasped, along with Harry. All the tables except one had been pushed back and stacked along the walls. There were twelve seats set for the table, where Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick along with Mr. Filch and two other students who appeared to be first years were already sitting.

Heather was right that no other Slytherin had stayed behind. When Professor Snape had walked in with the normal sign up scroll, she had been the only one to put her name down. She hadn’t paid attention for much longer than to know no one else was jumping at the opportunity to stay behind, something Pansy had noticed and commented on.

She could tell Ron and Harry were not very pleased, sitting so close to Professor Snape or Mr. Filch, and as they approached slowly Professor Dumbledore greeted them enthusiastically, as if trying to raise low spirits.

“Merry Christmas! There are so few of us, I had thought it’d be foolish to be so spread out on tables.” Professor Dumbledore smiled and motioned for the extra seats.

There were three at the end and two right after Professor Snape. Ron and Harry hurried to the seats farthest him, making Hermione sit next to the first years and Heather didn’t want to be rude so she sat next to Professor Snape, leaving the end seat empty.

The table filled with food within minutes. Platters of glazed turkey, bowls of gravy, vegetables platters, warm breaded stuffing, and potatoes of all kinds appeared before them. Their goblets filled with warm liquid and round crinkly rolls fell onto their plates.

Professor Dumbledore lifted his and offered the end to Professor Snape. “Crackers?”

Professor Snape looked at it, and as everyone was now looking at him, he pressed his lips together and pulled on the end. There was a loud pop like a firework had gone off under a silver platter and an odd hat with a stuffed vulture exploded out and floated over the steaming food, waiting to be claimed.

Heather’s eyes widened and looked away, remembering Neville’s boggart. Harry and Ron must have been remembering as well, because they were having a hard time keeping a straight face and were looking at each other. She looked back and swore even Professor McGonagall was smiling under her hand.

Professor Snape pressed his lips into a thin line again and pushed the hat towards Professor Dumbledore who traded his wizard hat for it without a second thought. “Let’s dig in,” Professor Dumbledore said.

The professors started talking among themselves as everyone started scooping foods onto their plates. Heather reached for a large piece of turkey and drowned it in gravy. The cracker was a bit cumbersome so she held it out to Hermione who pulled on the end. With a loud muffled pop, a large red sunhat with a flaking Christmas tree sprung out. It was kind of hideous, and large and when Harry popped his own cracker and a much smaller white wizards hat with ribbon everywhere came out, she exchanged it at once.

“Hey!” Harry took the tree hat and frowned, recognizing its unsightliness at once.

Heather smiled and wore the white hat, digging into the roasted potatoes. The great hall doors opened again and Professor Trelawney entered taking quick bobbing steps that made her seem as though she was gliding across the room to them. She was wearing so much sequence that she let off a glittering light pattern against the floor. Her green dress looked like it’d gone out of style several decades ago even by wizard standards.

Professor Dumbledore stood. “Sybill, how lucky we are to have you join us today.”

“I was crystal gazing and to my amazement, I saw myself abandoning my normal luncheon to join you. I could not resist the pull of fate and had to come down at once. Please excuse my lateness but it was meant to be…”

“Of course, Sybill. Please,” Professor Dumbledore motioned for the end chair.

Harry, who was on the across the chair Professor Trelawney would sit in, had on a very grave face. Heather hid her grin with the back of her hand and looked at Hermione, who was close to laughing at Professor Trelawney’s speech.

Professor Trelawney was mumbling something as her giant owl eyes looked at everyone. She gasped and shook her head. “I mustn’t! You all make twelve! I could not bring such bad luck by making us thirteen. ‘When thirteen dine, the first to rise is first to die’! I dare not, Headmaster!”

Hermione was about to lose it.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry Sybill, we’ll risk it.”

Professor Trelawney continued to shake her head and mumble “I couldn’t.”

“But didn’t you say you SAW yourself joining us? Which means you will anyways?” Heather felt a kick from Harry and winced.

Professor Trelawney looked down at the chair and nodded. “Well yes I-I have.” She took her seat and offered a cracker to Harry, who pretended not to notice. She looked around. “Where is our dear Professor Lupin?”

“Unfortunately he is ill once again.” Professor Dumbledore served himself a spoonful of gravy, drizzling it on everything, indicating to everyone that they should continue eating.

“But of course you knew that already, Sybill?” Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, receiving a very cold glare from her.

“I knew, Minerva. Of course I did, except it is bad manners to parade around the fact that one is all knowing. That is why I often act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye. It is very rude to make people around me nervous.”

“Well that explains a great deal,” Professor McGonagall said irritably.

Heather was looking at Hermione who looked just as amused as she felt.

“I have seen that Professor Lupin will not be here for very long. That his time is running out which he must know. He refused to allow me to crystal gaze for him, fleeing as if – ”

“Imagine that,” Professor McGonagall said dully.

“I’m sure,” Professor Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, “that Professor Lupin is not in any danger. He is ill, and in bed after having taken his potion. Which, Severus, you have made for him again?”

“Of course. Headmaster.”

Professor Dumbledore smiled. “Wonderful, then he shall be up and about in no time.”

Heather looked over at Harry, who was giving Professor Snape a narrowed side-stare. The meal went on quite normally after that. Harry and Ron were laughing and Hermione, although ignoring Ron, seemed to be just as amused by the professor’s conversations as Heather was.

Heather was peering past Professor Snape as Professor Flitwick told his story. Professor Sprout was almost crying into her steamed carrot with laughter. It was hard not to at least smile, especially when even Professor Snape, who constantly looked in a foul mood, chuckled a few times.

She glanced at Hermione for a second and noticed she was frowning at her. Heather raised an eyebrow and Hermione looked at Ron and Harry and turned back, shaking her head. Then her brows furrowed again and she gave Heather another look.

What on earth was she trying to say? Did she forget wizards can’t read minds? Heather tilted her head at her and Hermione waved her away, going back to her food.

“Derek, would you like some chipolatas?” Professor Dumbledore offered some to the quiet first year next to him.

The first year went very red and shook his head.

“Heather? What about you?”

Heather gladly took a sausage from the plate Professor Dumbledore held out to her. She stabbed into it with her fork and turned back to Professor Flitwick’s story, which had turned into the time he had been banned from a zoo for trying to smuggle a penguin in order to impress his girlfriend at the time.

“Then when I came back, muggle penguin under my arm, she was gone! I had about five guards looking for a penguin that was rumored to have opened doors,” he was having a hard time not laughing, “so I had to do something risky.”

“Oh the risk-taking starts now?” Professor Sprout burst out, wiping her eyes with her finger.

Professor Flitwick continued, “Yes! Up until then I was only breaking muggle laws! But I had to get away! So I took a Dawdle Drought, Draught of Peace, and an Extimulo Potion all at once and charmed the nearest bench – ”

Professor Snape laughed and cut in, “All three at the same time?”

Professor Flitwick started banging on the table, unable to contain himself. “Yes! Now, Severus, Don’t spoil it for the rest! I was never good at potions so of course I didn’t know what the effects combined would be, but you can all bet I did a stellar job charming that bench,” his voice became squeakier with every word.

He continued his story, and had Heather not learned about several far more insane and crazy events during History of Magic class, she would have never believed any of what he was saying to be true. The only part Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at was about Professor Flitwick jumping over the hedge fence which he claimed to be able to do despite describing it as three times taller than his height.

“And so I woke up – a week later! Mind you – dazed and in the company of one of those traveling merchant farmers after having promised him a pig and a goat upon my arrival of what destination I told him in my delirious state. And to this day that zoo has a strict no-sweater rule placed on children between the ages of seven and nine.”

Professor Sprout had lost the ability to hold a fork and even Professor McGonagall was dabbing at her eyes, unable to believe the events that unfolded for a young Professor Flitwick. After everyone had calmed their laughing fits, Heather wondered about the combination of the potions he had taken.

She knew Draught of Peace had to be turquois blue and simmering before being consumed and consisted of powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills, and powdered unicorn horn. She had never made it before and doubted they’d ever be made to make it since brewing it around Neville could end up sending them all into a deep sleep.

Heather turned to Professor Snape, “Was it that the Draught of Peace wasn’t simmering?”

Hermione cut in, “It must have been too much of the Valerian Root in the potion.”

Heather frowned. “Then he’d still be asleep. If the potion wasn’t consumed simmering – ”

“It was the combination of snowdrop, valerian root, and sopophorous bean,” he said sourly, attempting to end the conversation.

Hermione had a look about her and Heather rolled her eyes, knowing she was counting the mention of valerian root as a win.

“But not because there was EXTRA valerian root added, right?” Heather waited for Professor Snape to respond but he merely sipped his goblet.

It had been two hours from the start of the feast and everyone was just about bursting, stuffed full with Christmas dinner. Hermione had somehow taken out a book on fifth year potions – something Heather found incredibly suspicious that she just happened to have had on her – and proven that up to one twentieth of a thimbleful of valerian root could be added without causing permanent sleep but Professor Snape rolled his eyes and so they both took it as it wasn’t the cause and so they had both technically been wrong.

Harry and Ron got up after finishing dessert and Professor Trelawney shrieked.

“W-which one of you stood first?” She reached out for them and looked at each one fiercely.

Ron swallowed, shrugging. “Dunno?”

“What difference is it?” Professor McGonagall said tartly. “Unless there is a mad and deranged giant hound on the other side of those doors, ready to kill the first person into the entrance hall.”

Ron laughed and Harry snickered, making Professor Trelawney look very wounded at Professor McGonagall.

“You guys coming?” Harry looked at Heather and Hermione.

“Er – yes.” Hermione stood and kept close to Heather as they walked out. Just as they reached the entrance hall stairs into the main corridor, Hermione stopped. “I need a word with Heather, you two go on ahead.”

Heather stopped and stood next to Hermione as Harry and Ron walked on. She crossed her arms, expecting it to be about whatever she was trying to communicate all during the meal.

“That broom. We need to… to… tell the professors.”

Heather’s eyes widened. Them? Tattle on Harry? Get his broom taken away and make it impossible for him to participate in his next matches? She liked the plan she had made with Draco getting the same broom, keeping it fair, but to betray Harry?

“Hermione, why would we do that?”

She sighed, “Because what if it’s from Black? And it’s cursed and he gets hurt?”

Heather shook her head. “Black’s just come out of prison. Where would he have the money – ”

“What if he falls again and this time he… this time Dumbledore isn’t there to save him!”

Heather’s breath caught in her throat. Hermione was right in a way, and if she was at all right about who had given him the broom… Then Harry was in grave danger. She looked down at her hands and nodded.

“We’ll go back in and tell Professor McGonagall.” Hermione spun on her heels and led the way back into the great hall.

The first years ran past them, making them the last students invading the professor’s dinners. They approached the table and Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall looked over at them. They stood at either side of professor Trelawney and when Heather didn’t speak, Hermione did.

“Professor McGonagall? Could I have a word, please? It’s extremely important.”

“Is it so important that it cannot wait? That it must – ”

Hermione interrupted Professor Snape, “Yes.”

“Over there then.” Professor McGonagall pointed at the high table stage and they followed her up. “What is it? What’s happened. Where is Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?”

“They’re in the tower, but… well… Harry’s received a Christmas gift that might not… be very safe.”

Professor McGonagall blinked at Hermione and turned to Heather. “What gift?”

Heather unstuck her dry tongue. “A Quidditch broom…”

“But it arrived without a note and he has no idea who could have given it to him! And Heather didn’t receive any sort of present like that so it was meant for only him!” Hermione let out a shaky breath as Professor McGonagall thought.

“So you’re both thinking it could be from Sirius Black, then? Is that it?”

They nodded.

“But isn’t there some way to see if it’s dangerous? So that Harry could still use it if it’s not?” Heather had to try to save it for him, especially if Draco might be returning to school with one of his own.

Professor McGonagall nodded and told them to wait there as she collected Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. “Explain again, please.”

Heather nodded. “Harry received a firebolt – ”

Professor McGonagall sucked in air like she’d just been stung. “An actual firebolt?”

Heather nodded, seeing the loss in her eyes. “And it didn’t have a note.”

“It could be from Sirius Black,” Hermione added.

Professor Dumbledore stroked his beard. “How unfortunate… to receive such a wonderful Christmas gift under such mysterious circumstances.”

“Headmaster. Potter, of course, will have the broom confiscated?” Professor Snape looked at Professor Dumbledore in thought.

“We would know if it’s jinxed or cursed as soon as its ridden, wouldn’t we?” Professor McGonagall laughed, “I could even be the one to – ”

“That would be foolish and dangerous,” Professor Snape snapped.

“Severus, you just don’t want your Slytherins to play us with a firebolt – ”

He raised a brow, “Irrelevant. I can, of course, check it for curses, and bring it ‘round to you when I’m through.”

Professor McGonagall lifted a disbelieving brow. “Done as soon as possible too, I’m sure.”

“I don’t think Harry would want… I mean… Since it’s his broom couldn’t someone else look at it?” Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall and avoided anyone else’s eyes.

“This isn’t a repair shop, Granger.” Professor Snape turned back to Professor Dumbledore. “If the broom needs to be searched thoroughly, the only expert in this castle would be me.”

Professor Dumbledore let go of his beard and smiled, finally focusing on the situation again. “A simple search will suffice. Filius and Rolanda will do fine with that.”

Heather watched Professor Snape go from amused, to disbelieving, to angry. “Headmaster. Perhaps we should consider the fact that Sirius Black is the only known wizard to have escaped Azkaban and has somehow gotten passed an army of dementors and invaded this very school.”

“It has been considered, and Harry’s wishes on who will search the broom will be granted. Minerva, please confiscate the broom before anything unwanted happens.”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “They’re in the tower? Good. Then follow me.”

They marched along behind Professor McGonagall and the closer they got to the Gryffindor tower, the worse Heather felt. Her stomach was doing flips at the thought of taking Harry’s broom completely away. She kept telling herself that it was just going to be searched and returned, but that didn’t stop her guilt from eating at her.

They should have told him what they were going to do, not go behind his back about it. Of course it was all Hermione’s idea, and even Professor Dumbledore seemed a bit skeptical about it being from Sirius Black. They were nearing the portrait of Sir Cadogan when she decided she didn’t want to be a part of what was about to happen.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” She called out to Hermione and dashed back down the stairs before Hermione could even process what she’d yelled.

Tomorrow morning it was going to be a firestorm of daggers around them. Ron angry with Hermione, Harry angry at them, no one talking to anyone… She made it back down to the common room and sighed, relieved to have skipped seeing Professor McGonagall take the greatest broom in existence from Harry.

She looked around at her mess of books and paper around the fireplace and sat down on a cushion. She pulled up her dark arts book and continued reading where she had left off, using her folded up werewolf essay as a bookmark. She thought briefly of the possibility of Draco coming back with the firebolt and smiled guiltily, quickly clearing her mind.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


	24. Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**

Heather was pacing the common room, sweat dripping down her forehead. Her eyes kept darting back to her dark arts book, and at the essay flattened on top of it.

“Werewolf,” she kept muttering. “No.” She shook her head but her eyes darted back. Could Professor Lupin be a werewolf? Surely he wouldn’t have been allowed to… be around them if he was? “That’s silly,” she responded to herself. He wasn’t a threat. He wasn’t going to just bite down on the first student he saw. He hadn’t all year.

But the text rattled around her head very clearly. ‘They’re instincts took over easily…’, ‘Humanity slips from their minds…’, ‘Aggressive creatures…’, the text made it seem like Professor Lupin could just lose himself at any moment, especially near a full moon and most certainly on the nights of.

Her eyes widened and she ran into her room and opened up the moon chart they’d been given. To keep Harry safe, she’d need to memorize the moon’s cycles for the rest of the year… and the next one… and the next one. She sighed, hating having to add what seemed like a chore to her list of priorities. She hoped there wasn’t limited amount of space a brain could hold; she didn’t want to be wasting that space with what days the moon would be full. “There’s probably a potion for more headspace,” she grumbled, trying to convince herself to take on the task.

She folded up the moon chart and stuffed it in her skirt, walking back to the common room. Do the teachers know? Professor Snape seemed to know, or why else would he have acted so weird about her keeping her essay? He must have wanted her to figure it out, as a warning.

Was that why he assigned the essay to the whole class? As a warning for everyone? She picked up her essay and marched out of the common room and knocked on his office. It was very early in the morning, she remembered, and pulled her hand back.

She’d woken up in a cold sweat with the realization, so drenched she took an immediate shower and went through the chapter, going over symptoms and thinking back to Professor Lupin’s condition that seemed to get better and then worse every month so far. And he drank a potion for it… That had been a big indicator… The text had mentioned wolfsbane potion, a very difficult potion to make, but one Professor Snape was skilled enough to brew.

The door opened suddenly and Heather jumped back, surprised Professor Snape had been awake to hear her knocks. He was looking like he hadn’t heard her though, looking just as surprised to see her at his door as she was to see him awake. He was already dressed and everything. Did he wake this early every day?

“Potter.”

His cold voice forced her out of her head.

He looked down at her essay, gripped tightly in her hand and stepped back, opening the door further, as if inviting her in.

“Professor – ”

“Inside.”

She ducked under his arm and took a seat in a chair, placing the essay in her lap and pulled on her sweater, wiping her sweat from her palms. She waited for him to take a seat in his chair before starting, trying not to stumble over her words. “I-is… I mean… might there be a chance… Are w…err” She couldn’t bring herself to just say it. What if she was over-reacting? It’d be very embarrassing, and she could imagine him laugh at her or mentioning it during classes.

“What is your question, Miss Potter.” Professor Snape looked at her intensely for some reason, his eyebrows furrowed together, his whole posture looked completely attentive to her and oddly eager. His hands gripped each other with a force that made his knuckles unusually paler.

She swallowed. “Is Professor Lupin a werewolf?” It came out as a breath but loud enough for him to hear, and yet he didn’t respond. Only looked at her, his tongue running over his teeth under his closed lips as if in contemplation. She realized he might not be allowed to confirm such a thing if Professor Dumbledore was aware of Professor Lupin’s condition already and made it a rule. But then… Was it a big deal if he was a werewolf? If Professor Dumbledore already knew? Was Harry safe to have private lessons with him then?

“Is this a safety concern?” Professor Snape spoke suddenly, as if gasping at a sudden chance.

Heather thought for a moment. She didn’t want to imply she thought she was unsafe – or that anyone was unsafe – around him. “N-no…”

Professor Snape knit his brows together again and sighed. Then raised an eyebrow and sat back, finally relaxed. “Potter, who else have you told of your little theory?”

“No one!” she said instantly. He looked agitated, as if she’d just foiled another plan of his. She could tell he was trying to work different angles. She wanted to smile then, never having imagined him such a good actor before, obviously trying to work some way around a rule. Did he want her to say she had? So he could yell at her about it, accidently letting it slip to her that it was true? If anything his actions now already confirmed it for her.

He chewed on his bottom lip, staring at his quill when she burst out laughing, drawing his attention to her.

She shook her head, trying to cover her fit of giggles. “I’m sorry, Professor.” She stood up and walked towards the cauldron sitting on his back table by the fire. She calmed herself and poked her head in, breathing deeply. It smelled awful, indicating it’d taste awful too, like Wolfsbane is said to. She looked around at the ingredients and pointed at the leaves and stems piled together.

“Are these poisonous?” She looked back at him and he nodded. “Are the petals that pertain to these stems purple?” Again he nodded. She turned back and couldn’t find any more ingredients lying about. She turned and walked back to her seat. “Then that’s aconite – or wolfsbane – and in that cauldron you made Wolfsbane potion.” She decided she’d form everything as a statement, forcing him to either correct her or silently confirm she is correct.

“Well done, Potter.” There wasn’t any sarcasm in his voice. “You’ve correctly identified the potion I made.”

There was a weird elation felt in her stomach at his praise. “And you make that for Professor Lupin every month. Because he’s a werewolf.”

Professor Snape doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t correct her. “You’ve told no one else?” He seemed doubtful and a little surprised.

Heather shook her head and stood, grabbing her essay. She should leave before he was forced to tell her not to tell anyone else. “Thank you, Professor.” She headed out the door and closed it shut, smiling. She’d gotten her answer. Her smile dropped. Professor Lupin was indeed a werewolf.

Professor Snape’s office door opened again and she ran back to her common room, folding up her essay and put all her books away. She paced the common room, debating. She decided she wasn’t worried, since Professor Snape already knew about it and so must the rest of the staff, meaning Professor Lupin must be of no threat to any student. But should she still tell anyone? What if it caused unnecessary panic? Should she tell at least tell Harry?

There was a knock on the door and she went to open it. Hermione was standing there wiping tears from her eyes.

“Why are you crying?”

Hermione sniffed. “They’re not talking to us.”

She raised a brow. “‘Us’?”

Hermione crossed her arms and huffed. “Well we both did tell McGonagall together.”

Heather accompanied Hermione down to the library, though she was mad at her too. There was a reason she didn’t want to be there when Harry got his broom taken. She didn’t want to be in a fight with him. She wanted to not talk to Hermione either, for dragging her into it, but she was her best friend and she couldn’t leave her all alone.

The fight continued for the rest of the break. Hermione and her went to the library every day and during every meal, Ron and Harry refused to even look at them. She understood their anger and wanted to tell them it was all Hermione’s idea, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t go along with it. She should have said no to her. At least then it wouldn’t be just Draco with a firebolt that she’d told him to buy.

Luckily she was spared the guilt, because Draco came back with a Nimbus two-thousand-and-one thinking he was going to beat Harry’s Nimbus two-thousand.

“Potter!” Draco yelled at her from across the common room.

She poked her head out from behind her book and watched him stride over to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!”

She scoffed and set her book aside, not bothering to stand. “I told you the very hour he opened it.”

Marcus was making his way to them as well, either curious about what Draco was screaming about or ready to split up his team members, should need arise.

He avoided the fact she didn’t know Harry’d be getting a broom and continued yelling at her. “My Father had already got me this broom,” – he waved his nimbus around – “and so when I asked him for a firebolt he refused!”

It was good to know even Mr. Malfoy knew just how far he’d go to spoil Draco and how far he wouldn’t.

Marcus frowned. “A firebolt? Who has a firebolt?”

Heather stood. “Ha – ”

“Harry Potter of course!” Draco threw down his nimbus and let go of his trunk, letting it thunk loudly.

Marcus glared at her. “Why didn’t you tell him sooner?”

“Because it was sent anonymously and we didn’t know what it was until he opened it! I owled Draco as soon as I could – which Harry doesn’t know I did – and besides! He got it taken away… And I’m not sure when he’ll get it back or if he will at all.” She crossed her arms and glared back at Marcus.

Marcus shifted his gaze to the numbus two-thousand-and-one on the ground. “Don’t throw your broom. Right now that’s the fastest broom in the school – if Potter doesn’t get his broom back. We’ll just have to hope he never does… We play Ravenclaw in a week. Practices are twice daily now. Get in you uniforms, we practice now.”

Marcus stormed away, leaving Draco and Heather looking after him in disbelief. Practice twice daily? First practice is now? They headed their separate ways and met back up, uniforms on, ready to head down to the Quidditch field.

On their walk down with the team, she spotted Harry and Ron walking towards the stairs and waved at them. Having not talked to them for a week and she hoped the start of term meant they’d set the fight aside, but they ignored her waving hand and headed up. She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms.

“Looks like someone’s getting the cold shoulder,” Draco chuckled. “Who cares. Maybe now you’ll be spending time with your own people.”

Heather raised her brow. “My own people?”

“Us. Potter. Your house, or do you not consider Slytherins to be – ”

“Of course I do.” She didn’t really consider different houses to be different people, but she knew that wasn’t the correct answer. “I just thought you meant halfbloods or something.”

He nodded. “Well those too, I guess. But only from our house.”

Practice was hard that day. Although she’d kept up her exercise routine up, trying her very hardest to grow what little muscle she had, it hadn’t been enough and her whole body was sore, needing to be re-accustomed to the Quidditch drills she normally did.

By the end of the week she was just as sore as the first day, but Marcus had given them the day off the day before the Ravenclaw match and now, morning of, she was feeling a bit better. She sat next to Draco and her team, holding her shoulder and moving her arm around trying to crack it. It was breakfast and the Gryffindors were all sitting quietly in their tables, probably secretly wishing the Slytherins would lose this match. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were all very clearly rooting against Slytherins – despite Slytherins rooting for Hufflepuffs when they played Gryffindor.

She nodded at everything Marcus said over breakfast but found her gaze kept wandering to the Gryffindor table, where Harry and Ron were sitting facing her but avoiding looking in her direction, keeping their heads down low. Hermione was on the other side, alone but at least she smiled and held up thumbs of encouragement for her.

“Let’s head out.” Marcus led them outside.

It was a clear day, cold, but not raining or dark with storm clouds. In the locker room Marcus went over the plays against Ravenclaw and told them they’d win as long as they stuck to the plan.

“They’re tricky, those Ravenclaws. They’ll have numerous counter attacks ready, but we’ll be relentless and unyielding. Win at any cost, and don’t get us disqualified.” He watched everyone nod. “Malfoy. Catch that Snitch.”

Draco smirked, “I will. I’ve been practicing with an actual Snidget at home.”

Heather refrained from informing him Snitches are faster than those little golden birds and nodded at him instead. They headed out on the low cut grass and heard the stadium roar at the Ravenclaws who came out at the same time. Both teams glared at each other as they mounted their brooms and touched off the ground.

Madam Hooch walked down with the chest of balls and took out the Quaffle, flying up to their level, ready to throw it up at her whistle. The second the ball left her hand, all six Chasers charged forward, arms extended.

Heather ducked under a Ravenclaw’s arm and managed to gain distance towards the hoop, hoping Marcus or Graham had grabbed hold of it. They had.

“MONTAGUE’S IN POSSESSION!”

Graham threw it forward while Marcus cut off the Ravenclaws, making them pull back on their broom handles to avoid collision.

Heather’s cheeks flushed as she caught it, heart pounding to be the first with the chance to score for her team. She pushed it under her arm and flew forward as fast as she could manage, knowing Graham and the Ravenclaws were close behind. This wasn’t a decided play they had practiced or memorized, but she knew Marcus was too far behind to throw to, and Graham was likely at the Ravenclaw Chasers’ levels and too risky to throw to. It was all on her.

A Bludger came her way and she flipped on her broom, swinging back around just narrowly missing it, keeping on her path. She narrowed her eyes against the wind and analyzed the Ravenclaw Keeper, seeing him ready to dart to any direction she indicated. Last time they played she was able to fake the direction she threw it, and guessed it wouldn’t work a second time.

The cold wind blew her ponytail back and as she lifted her arm to throw the Quaffle, she turned her head to the hoop her broom wasn’t aimed towards but threw true, tricking the Keeper for a split second long enough for the Quaffle to bounce off his fingertips as he dove forward, letting the Quaffle through the hoop with pathetic force.

“POTTER’S MADE THE FIRST POINTS OF THE MATCH FOR SLYTHERIN!”

Ravenclaws evened it out within the next minute, matching their score. The game went on for an hour, and every time Slytherin scored, so did Ravenclaw. Their plays were clean and precise, well-rehearsed and thought through. Graham, Marcus, and her, however, didn’t let their Chasers get away with anything tricky. If Ravenclaw scored, it was due to speed and luck on their part that Graham and Marcus didn’t bump them off course.

The sun had almost reached its peak in the sky when Marcus turned to Draco, who was currently chasing the Snitch. Both teams had two-hundred points and beyond exhausted, realizing it was all up to the Seekers if the game was ever going to end.

Heather flew under Marcus and below two Ravenclaw Chasers. Marcus dropped the Quaffle and followed his motion up, pretending the ball was still in his hand and he was throwing it to Graham. Heather caught it and leaned forward, picking up speed. She pulled up as Marcus stopped in his tracks, trying to trip up the Chasers again, hoping to collide with them, but they split off like a river and came back together, chasing her down. She got close to the middle hoop, knowing she’d smack right into the Keeper and threw the Quaffle up to Graham who had kept following from above. The third Chaser came up from the side, fist extended ready to punch the Quaffle out of Graham’s hands and into the other two Chasers’, but Graham dropped it before he could, allowing Heather to catch it once more.

The crowd was growing louder, and she knew Draco must be close to capturing the Snitch. She was second from smacking into the Keeper, knowing he wasn’t moving because he was hoping she’d do just that. It was a penalty to go through the same hoops as the Quaffle and double penalty to take the opposing team’s keeper with you. She turned her broom and readied her body to smack into him shoulder first, and pushed the Quaffle with the inside of her elbow, bumping it into the right-most hoop as she crashed into the Keeper, falling through the middle one. The only distance between her and the Quaffle, had been the metal of the two hoops touching, and as she crashed into the Keeper, her broom’s handle struck the metal and bucked her off.

“POTTER SCORES AND – MALFOY’S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERINS WIN BY ONE-HUNDRED-SIXTY POINTS!”

She fell onto the sand with a rough splash, sending some into the air and in her open mouth as she gasped for breath. She sat up, coughing. Hermione was there in an instant, helping her up.

“I can’t believe – You could have gotten hurt – And hurt the Keeper as well! Not to mention gotten a penalty!” Hermione pulled Heather up, shaking her head. She backed away as Marcus touched down beside her.

He was smiling and slapped Heather’s back hard. “So you have some Slytherin in you after all. Good job. We’ll work on your tackling for when we play Gryffindors… If we do,” he looked at Hermione and growled at her, laughing at her jump, and walked towards Draco who was waving the Snitch around in the air.

“Will you really be tackling people now?” Hermione had a disapproving stare, but softened when she noticed Heather’s eyes.

Heather was looking at the exiting crowd, Harry and Ron among them. “I’ve just fallen fifteen feet and made a crater in the sand with my body on impact… and they don’t even care to see if I’m alright.”

Hermione crossed her arms and stared across the field at them as they exited. They only looked back at them once. Hermione walked with her to the broom shed and together walked into Hogwarts and split off for a late lunch.

Heather sat next to her team, who all still had their uniforms on, and smiled as Slytherins congratulated her, impressed with her final move. For once she felt like the center of attention that had nothing to do with being Harry’s sister, and she loved it. Pansy sat next to and helped wipe sand from her sweaty forehead with a napkin. Heather tried very hard not to laugh at her.

She looked up to the High Table by accident and spotted Professor Lupin holding a goblet up, silently toasting her victory. There weren’t many teachers at the table – there were always less during breakfast and lunch than during dinner – and so it was easy to also spot Professor Snape on the far side, looking to Professor Lupin and to her, narrowing his eyes.

She turned back and just barely missed Harry’s eyes; he had turned down to his food quickly. She felt angry inside. It wasn’t fair that Harry was mad at her. He should be grateful she even cared to look out for him with his mysterious and possibly deadly broom. She decided she wouldn’t tell him about Professor Lupin being a werewolf and got up to go shower. He could figure it out for himself.

#  **~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~**


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